


Winter's Rose and the Silver Prince

by LordofQia



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, I Don't Even Know, Magic, Multi, My First Fanfic, POV Lyanna Stark, POV Rhaegar Targaryen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2019-08-05 05:08:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 42,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16361426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordofQia/pseuds/LordofQia
Summary: Heavy AUFormerly "Queen of Ice, King of Fire"She looked around and the dragon was now staring at her like he was going to eat her. It looked like it belonged there. White and blue with the fiery eyes. It was the embodiment of the people during winter.Winter all around and the comfort of fire within.Based on characters and world created by GRRM.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Brandon and Lyanna born in 261 AC.  
> Rhaegar born in 260 AC.  
> A mix of book and show.  
> Includes content that some might find disturbing.

Lyanna

She was with Cregan in the Wolfswood when she witnessed the most majestic sight he had ever seen or will ever see. 

It was hard to comprehend, and she did try rubbing her eyes to see if it wasn’t a figment of her imagination. It was on top of the mountain, but she could see the silhouette clearly. 

“Cregan, doesn’t it look like it is getting bigger and bigger?” She asked her direwolf expecting no response. 

The answer to her question was provided in an instant when she surmised that the dragon was descending on them. 

Not her specifically either, on Cregan. All the variations went in her head. Until she finally chose the most obvious one. 

Cregan does not get to be the dragon’s meal. 

All it would take was one well-placed arrow. She had to be perfect in her aim. An arrow to the eye of the dragon won’t kill it but it might annoy it enough that it might change its course. 

She took a deep breath and then focused. And then let the arrow loose. 

The dragon must have seen it. Her aim was perfect. But it just bounced off the dragon’s neck. Perhaps it was the fear that had made her miss, perhaps it was something else. 

“Cregan, to me.” She said. 

If Cregan was going to die, she was dying with him. 

The direwolf was a bit hesitant but he did move to her. Cregan cared too much for her. 

She was now eye to eye with the dragon who was hovering now. It was white in color with blue patches over it. But that didn’t distract her from the fact that its eyes were like the heart of a burning star. 

She had heard the stories about a dragon warming the springs of Winterfell and she had dismissed them as legends. But right now, anything could be true. 

It was huge, she had only heard stories about Balerion, but this dragon wasn’t much smaller than the great dragon. The flaps of the wings were so strong that she almost fell back each time. 

“Please, go hunt someone else.” She pleaded with the dragon. That was all she could do for all bow in front of a dragon. 

The dragon didn’t respond in any way. It just stared where it was, his jaws just a yard away from her. 

A person can only be brave when they are in fear and she was as brave as she ever had been. Pointing a bow at a dragon. 

So, she stared the dragon down, and the dragon did the same. As if it was judging whether to eat her not.

Her direwolf was growling but what is a wolf compared to a dragon?

She held her breath the entire time until the dragon finally turned and moved back to the mountain. 

And then she let out a great sigh. 

It might have a nest there.

But right now, she was just happy that the dragon had let her live.

On her way back to Winterfell she contemplated whether to tell her father about the dragon or not. 

Telling him might mean that in the future, the dragon couldn’t hurt Winterfell. They could prepare and make scorpions to take the dragon down. And also, from the stories she remembered, a dragon is only half as good without a rider. 

She thought about it a bit more. The dragon could have eaten her and Cregan today. She could have loosened her entire quill at the dragon, but it wouldn’t have changed anything.

She owed the dragon a life debt. So, when she reached home, she didn’t tell anything to anyone. 

**  
A month later. 

 

She was angry. 

How dare he? 

She had come to know about her father’s plans to marry her to Robert Baratheon. He was gone and as Brandon was the lord he had her fetch some files and right on top were the papers. 

The plans were in their infancy, but her father had promised not to wed her without her permission. She was sixteen now and thus old enough to marry. But she didn’t want to get married yet. 

She wanted to roam the world first, have adventures and then settle down somewhere. She knew that the Queen had asked her father for her hand for the Crown Prince a year ago and her father had declined on her wish. What had happened now?

It was the doing of the damn maester, that was all she could think. After all being the Queen was better than being a lady. And from what she had heard Rhaegar Targaryen was a better man than Robert Baratheon. 

Nonetheless, she wanted to hunt today. She only hunted the beings which were worth eating and then the entire castle could eat them, and they didn’t go to waste. A stag could feel a lot of empty bellies. 

“Lya, where are you going?” Benjen asked. 

“Hunting, Ben.” She said. 

“Can I come?” Ben asked. 

“Not today, today I am going a bit further. Do not worry, I will tell Martyn where I am going.” She said. 

Ben was saddened but he nodded nonetheless. That was all she was going to get out of him. 

So, she proceeded to the stables. 

Martyn Cassel was there, he had just arrived from some errand that Brandon had sent the man at. 

“Martyn, I am going hunting. I will return in a day or two. It is in the farther reaches of the Wolfswood, to the north.” She said. 

“Alright, Lady Lyanna. You know the markings stay close to them.” Martyn said. Everybody knew that when Brandon was the lord of Winterfell, she got to do everything she wanted to do. 

“Of course, I am not a fool, Martyn.” She said. “I might be impulsive, but I know the bounds.” 

She approached Snow, her horse and ventured into the Wolfswood. 

The Sun was touching the horizon when she decided to set her camp. She had seen some wolves earlier but against the beast that Cregan was, nothing came close. 

And just like that, she went to sleep. 

The first thing she noticed next morning was that Cregan wasn’t beside her. Which was weird as she always slept with her wolf. He was warm and most of all he protected her. 

Still, she went and packed everything that she had taken with her back. Today, she would go further and tomorrow she would return back to the same place and then reach back. 

She saddled her things on Snow and moved to her destination. She had just climbed a mountain so now she was moving downwards, and it was extremely steep. But her horse had been groomed for it. 

Cregan came back to her in a few minutes and he was blocking her way and shaking his head.

There was danger up ahead. But what danger would scare a direwolf. 

Bandits. 

Some might call her a coward for what she did, but she turned her horse back. However, there was a problem. The path she had taken couldn’t be traversed back, it was too steep of a climb this way. 

Snow had tired before she had even made a mile in the direction.

So, she turned back to where she was going first. 

She had a direwolf what could the danger be?

It was only two miles later that she came across the answer to that question. 

“Bastards.” She shouted as she ran away from a horde of Wildlings. There weren’t many, fifteen or twenty but that was more than what she and Cregan could handle. 

She could have evaded them as she was on a horse and they were on foot, but Snow had run the moment the shouts had occurred. He was a horse for riding and hunting not for battle. 

Cregan had run into the woods the moment she had reached the clearing in the forest. It made sense, he could hunt the wildlings from behind. 

Only if she was alive by that time. 

Soon she was out of breath. And the wildlings obviously weren’t as they came and surrounded her. 

“What do you want?” She asked. “My father can provide food and shelter.”

“I want you, lass. Can your father provide that?” The man who looked like their leader said. 

She gulped hard. 

“I will die before that happens.” She said. 

“Then do it.” The wilding said. “You have a dagger, do it.” 

She did have a dagger and she put it to her neck. One slash and it would be over.

The man started walking over to her slowly. Taunting her to slash her own neck.

“I will do it.” She warned. 

“Do it, I am telling you. Make it hard and fast. The shock will cover the pain.” The man said. “Otherwise prepare to feel enough torment to last you a lifetime.” 

She couldn’t do it. She wanted to, but she couldn’t. 

Submit today and rise again tomorrow. 

The man reached her and took the dagger from her hands. 

She was crying. She never cried but here she was. She had never felt so helpless. 

“Please do not.” She begged. “Please don’t.” 

The man didn’t listen. 

He slowly pulled the furs of her until she was left in her thin top. And then he put his hands in the neck of the top, his nails her bare breasts underneath and then pulled hard. So hard that the shirt ripped off and she was naked. 

“Got a nice set, doesn’t she? The man said before shoving his dirty hand inside her breeches. 

The shock was wearing down on her and her anger was returning.

“Kill me after you are done.” She snarled. 

“And why is that?” The man said as he pulled her breeches down to her ankles. 

“Because if you do not, I will tear you apart limb by limb.” She paused for a second. “And then feed you to my wolf.” 

“By the time I am done with you, all of your fury will be gone.” The man said. “And you will beg for more.”

“If you consider yourself so strong, why don’t you challenge me one on one?” She asked. 

“I already know that I will win.” The man replied. “And my cock is too hard now.”

The man finally pulled her smallclothes down too and she was bare naked among the frozen world. Her breeches coiled around her feet, hampering her movement and soiled in the snow. 

The man started removing his breeches now too. 

But before he could pull it out, the man was trashed to the ground by Cregan. 

“You shouldn’t have come, my friend.” She said to the wolf. The man who assaulted her was alive but injured a little and now the rest fourteen had their sights trained on Cregan. 

She had no choice but to lean on Cregan and hold his fur tightly as he fled with her on top. Wolves weren’t made to carry humans and Cregan was tiring before the wildlings did. 

But there were a full hundred yards between her and the wildlings when Cregan finally came to rest. 

“You did well, my friend.” She said. “Now run, there is nothing you can do here. Go to Winterfell and take care of Benjen.”

Cregan was about to run when she noticed the wildlings running back. 

She looked to the other side, there was no one there. 

She heard a mighty roar then. Not of a shadowcat, not of a lion but of a dragon. She heard it, the wildlings heard it and she didn’t doubt that the people in Winterfell heard it too. 

She didn’t even look up, but she relished in the fear that must have been going through the wildlings as they ran away from a field of battle. 

Cowards.

And then the dragon came into her view and the entire world was painted in the hues of black and red. 

Her vision wasn’t that good that far, but she was sure that one of the wildlings had turned to ash the exact instant the flames hit them. 

In less than a moment, all of them were dead. There was a huge patch in the snow where the flames had landed, and the snow had melted right off. Not even a puddle of water, the snow turned to steam instantly. 

The dragon turned towards her and approached her. 

But this time he landed on the ground. 

“Why did you save me?” She asked. 

The dragon couldn’t reply but she figured it out in her head. He must have known that she hadn’t told her father about him. 

“Anyways, thank you.” She said. 

The dragon didn’t move. 

She didn’t know what to do so she slowly went to the dragon while tightening her wet breeches. The snow had made them impossible cold. 

She was soon only an arm’s length away from the dragon and she could feel the heat. It felt good in this cold environment. 

“Thank you.” She said as she slowly extended her arm. 

The dragon purred like Cregan had as a pup, as her hand rested on his snout. 

“Can I call you Winter?” She said. “Although you bring fire, to me Winter came for them.” She said. 

She felt that the dragon agreed to it. 

“Well, Winter you can go now.” She said. “We will meet again. Soon.” She said as she retrieved her arm. 

The dragon turned his neck as if to show her something before taking off. 

It wanted her to see something. 

She decided to walk up to the place where the wildings were massacred. 

There was nothing there, everything had turned to soot and ash. 

Everything except for one person. The one who was only wearing smallclothes beneath his waist. 

She walked over to him and she grinned as she absorbed the fear on his face. 

How does it feel now, to be on the other end of this?

“What did I tell you?” She asked. 

“Forgive me.” The man went on his knees. 

With one mental command, she had Cregan tear one of the man’s arms away from him. 

The snow had turned crimson red from the attack. 

She didn’t care as she retrieved the dagger that the man had thrown on the ground after taking from her.  
She grabbed the man from his hair and pulled him up. It took some force but she was able to do it. 

This was her moment. She shoved the twelve inches of the dagger into the man where his cock would be. If the man was screaming before it was nothing to what he was doing now. 

“How does it feel to be helpless?” She asked. The man didn’t reply, he just screamed. 

Slowly and slowly she brought the dagger up. It wasn’t Valyrian Steel, but it was extremely sharp. It cut through the stomach like a knife through butter. 

She felt the exact moment the person died as his legs went numb and his body sliced through her dagger. 

“Cregan eat up.” She said. 

The direwolf immediately went to work. 

She watched it. Every single bite that Cregan took until his face was all bloody and he wagged his tail as he looked at her. 

“Onwards to Winterfell now, Cregan.” She said as she retrieved her things and started walking back. 

Snow joined her a bit later and she didn’t stop for the night, it was late when she reached but she did reach Winterfell a day in advance. 

That night she dreamt of the Wolfswood, of the place the wildlings attacked but from a ravens point of view. Or perhaps a dragon’s? 

**  
The next week

She decided to go to the Winter’s nest. 

His nest wasn’t that far away. If she left at dawn and spent four hours there she could be back before midnight. 

She thought about her marriage. Duty. That was what it came down too. The best she could hope was that she fell in love with some high lord and her father agreed to it. 

She reached the field where she had seen Winter for the first time and after that, she had to climb the mountain to reach his nest. 

The mountain was tall but not steep from the other side, Snow carried her easily to the peak. 

The nest was underwhelming. She had thought that it would have been a grand area, but it was nothing. Not even a stack of twigs. Just melted snow. 

But the view was otherworldly. It was one of the tallest points in the small valley and she could see all of the mountains around it full of trees covered in snow. Behind those mountains somewhere was Winterfell. 

The sun was out today too and that made it even more gorgeous. Albeit staring at the snow was a bit hard as the sun reflected off too well. 

She saw Winter open his eyes to see her and then he closed them again as he went to sleep. 

She came all the way and the dragon wanted to sleep? She couldn’t do anything. She was just a mere human and he was one of the most powerful creatures to have ever existed. 

She didn’t have anything to do either, so she and Cregan both went to sleep too for a while. It was cold but the dragon exuded heat and that warmed her up with the rays of the sun. She didn’t dream, it was just peace and relaxation. 

There was some movement that woke her up. 

She looked around and the dragon was now staring at her like he was going to eat her. It looked like it belonged there. White and blue with the fiery eyes. It was the embodiment of the people during winter. Cold all around and the warmth of fire within. 

“Hello, Winter.” She said as she rose. 

The dragon looked at her for some time and then dived off of the cliff. 

“Seriously?” She shouted. “I came to spend time with you and you just decide to leave me?”

She was frustrated but she knew that she was helpless. She stayed there for another hour, waiting for the dragon to come back but it didn’t so she left and headed home. 

The journey back was serene but as the sun had set it was cold, very cold. 

Nonetheless, she had made it back to Winterfell before midnight. 

**  
The next morning, she woke up a bit late as she was tired from all of the riding the day before. 

The best thing about Winterfell was that nobody told her to do anything. Her father had made sure that she was well educated in matters of running households and knowing a bit of governance but that was over. 

She could do whatever her heart sought now, well at least until she got married. 

That is why she was mighty annoyed when she spotted Brandon coming towards her with his face meaning business. 

“What is it, Brandon?” She asked. 

“Ah, isn’t it a beautiful morning today?” Brandon said. 

“Brandon, come to the point.” She replied. 

“Umm, Lya” Brandon was hesitating. What did he do now?

“What did you do?”

“I haven’t done anything. I thought maybe I could go visit Barbrey.” Brandon said. 

“Brandon father left you in charge, not me.” She stated firmly. 

“Come on Lya, you have been going on your escapades all of the past month. Let me go too.” Brandon asked. 

“Bran, I went to the Wolfswood. You are talking about going to the Rills.” She said. “Father will be back in two weeks and I doubt you will make it here before.” She said. 

“About that, the business in White Harbour is more complicated than previously thought and father won’t come back until a moon’s turn.” Bran said. 

She gave a frustrated sigh. 

“I don’t like it, but you can go.” She relented. “And Brandon either marry her or leave her. Don’t tread the middle ground.”

“Father won’t let me marry. She is the younger daughter.” Bran said. 

“Then leave her, Brandon. You are ruining her life and yours too.” She said as she patted Brandon on the back and passed beside him to the table to break her fast. 

She saw Brandon preparing to ride when she came back, and she waved him goodbye and he did the same. 

And thus, she landed in the throne of Winterfell with Cregan resting at her feet. 

“Martyn, how many are there today?” She asked. 

“Three people, but all in the same party.” Martyn Cassel replied. 

It was going to be a piece of cake. 

Although Benjen could sit here too, surprisingly her father preferred her to sit here. She had sat in this throne more than Brandon of that she was sure. 

She saw the three men enter. They were all well built. All three of them were hooded, which seemed strange to her. 

“Remove your hoods if you wish for me to hear my request.” She commanded. 

The men hesitated a bit and look to the man in right as if to ask for his permission and then they lowered it. 

There wasn’t much. They were all nice-looking men. She couldn’t recognize them however so their appearances didn’t matter. 

“State your business.” She asked. 

“My Lady, we come on the orders of the Crown Prince.” The man in the center as he passed her a letter. 

She just tossed the letter into the fireplace. 

“My Lady that was the word of the Prince.” The man said. 

“The letter wasn’t sealed.” She replied. 

“The Prince didn’t have his seal available to him.” The man argued. 

Really? The Prince of Dragonstone didn’t have a seal?

“I am not going to waste my time here.” She said. “Unless you have something sound, you can tell me otherwise you are free to go. I cannot accept anything without a seal. It may be poisoned for all I know.”

“My Lady, we have urgent work in the crypts of Winterfell.” The man said. 

In the crypts‽

“Even the King has no right there.” She said. “It is sovereign territory of House Stark.” 

“My Lady, there is no right but the Prince can incentivize it.” The man said. 

“You can give me a million dragons, but I will not let you into the crypts.” She said. 

“Lady Lyanna it is imperative that we go in there.” The man said. “We need to see the crypt of Brandon the Builder and gain information about the Long Night.” 

Now she was interested. 

“Tell you what. You tell me where Brandon’s crypt is, I will take you there. Under supervision of course.” She said. 

The Starks have ruled for eight thousand years. Take it that in one generation there are three siblings and one Lady. A lord rules for about twenty years. That will be twelve hundred graves at the minimum. The crypts have multiple levels. It is impossible to find someone. And that is not helped by the dark conditions and the subsequent congestion if a torch is used. 

“We can find it, but we need access to the library.” The man said. 

“No, I cannot provide that.” She replied immediately. “To me you are thugs and the books in there are precious. Bring an order from the Prince with his seal and preferably a direct raven from King’s Landing or Dragonstone and I will believe you.” 

“My Lady, is there any other way?” The leader asked. 

“No. I can at maximum send a raven to Dragonstone but nothing more.” She replied. 

“My Lady, what if another lord was here?” The leader asked. “Will you believe me then?” 

“Depends on the person.” She replied. 

If it was a lord that she had heard of then it was reputable. 

It was subtle, but she saw the hand signal that the man on the right gave to the man in the center. Now her suspicions were confirmed the man on the right was their leader. 

The man in the middle unsheathed his sword from the back. The five Stark guards immediately followed suit. 

She raised her hand. 

She knew that sword. Everyone worth something in Westeros knew that sword. Even Martyn was staring at it. It was a greatsword, with blade whiter than milk and a pommel featuring a rising sun. 

It was Dawn and the man had to be the Sword of the Morning, Ser Arthur Dayne. The man had just become a knight two years ago and he was already famous across the realm for his honor and martial skills.

But Cregan didn’t know that, and he was on his feet snarling at Ser Arthur. 

“Cregan, it is alright.” She commanded her direwolf. 

“Ser Arthur, I believe you.” She said. “No need to come closer. You have access to all parts about the library. Maester Walys will be assigned to you all day if you need any help.” 

She hated that maester. And this way Walys was assigned far from her. 

“Lady Lyanna, I will prefer that we remain unsupervised.” Ser Arthur said. “If you want to look over us, you are welcome to.” 

She couldn’t do that, but she could do something else. 

“Okay, Ser Arthur. My brother Benjen is a big admirer of yours. He will be with you in the library.” She said. 

“That is perfect, Lady Lyanna.” Arthur said as he bowed and turned. 

“Wait a second.” She said. 

The men turned back to her now. 

“Where will you be staying?” She asked. 

“In the inn outside the castle.” Arthur said. 

“Ser Arthur, do not be foolish. Winter is over, and the town is shrinking. The inn is no place to stay for a lord as worthy as yourself. Come with me, I will take you to your rooms.”

Arthur could only agree. 

They had three guest rooms that were always prepared for circumstances like this. 

“Ser Arthur, you can stay here, and your friend can stay in the other room.” She said. “I apologize, and I will have the other rooms cleaned out and readied by tomorrow. But for right now, your second friend can come with me to another room elsewhere in the castle.”

Ser Arthur was a bit hesitant, but he nodded. 

She had the rooms available, but she wasn’t a fool. There was only one man who could order Ser Arthur who was her age and had purple eyes. And that man was Rhaegar Targaryen. The guest rooms were good, but she could do better. 

“It is warm in here.” The Prince said. 

“There are warm springs underneath. They maintain the temperature here.” She said. 

She then led Prince past her rooms and into the ones that belonged to her mother. These were the best rooms in Winterfell that she could give. 

The room was decorated with portraits of Stark Kings staring into the lands with a direwolf at their feet, standing atop a mountain. The traditional Stark pose, her father called it. It was a majestic room. One meant for the Queen of the North at one time. 

“These are nicer than the others.” The Prince said. “That is not to say that the others weren’t as nice.”

“My Prince, you deserve better.” She said. 

“It was the hand gesture, wasn’t it?” The Prince asked back. 

“That and the hesitation when removing the hoods. The others looked over to you.” She said. “It was slight, but I caught it.” 

“My Lady, can I have your word that it remains a secret. My father cannot know that I am here.” Rhaegar Targaryen requested. 

The prince requested her. Of course, she as going to say yes. 

“Your grace, I won’t tell anyone.” She said. “My rooms are just two doors to the left from here. If you require anything just ask.”

The Prince nodded. 

“Cregan, stay outside.” She said as she spotted her direwolf making his way in. 

“Gorgeous beast.” The Prince said as he looked over the wolf. 

“He is not a beast.” She said. “At least not to me.”

“I am sure a wolf the size of a small horse can be classified as a beast.” The Prince said. “But I meant in a good way. 

She nodded. 

“If that is all.” She asked. 

“That is all.” 

She smiled and exited the room. She could see it in Cregan’s face that the Prince was staring at her from behind. 

“Come on, Cregan. Let us return to the hall.” She said.

And thus, she sat in the throne for a full six hours until she decided that it was time for supper. She had asked Benjen to talk with Arthur and they were all sitting at the table when she entered.

As tradition dictated said she sat at the head of the table while the others sat on the sides. 

“So, did you find anything?” She asked no one in general. 

It was Arthur who replied. 

“Not yet. There are so many books, we spent the past six hours sorting them into the ones we require and the ones we do not.” Arthur said. 

“Lya, Walys was poking his head into what we were doing.” Benjen spoke. 

“Is it true?” She asked. 

She saw them hesitate. So, she looked at Rhaegar. He was the only one who could give her the answers. 

“It is fine, Lady Lyanna.” Rhaegar said. “Nothing major.” 

She looked around to see if no one was there. “Ser Arthur, if he interferes one more time. Please take his head for me. I told him three times in clear terms today to not interfere you. He is disobeying my direct orders. I cannot lop off his head as my father would not be happy, but you are free too.” 

“And my Prince, you can call me Lyanna.” She added. 

“You do not like him?” The Prince asked. 

Benjen’s laugh gave it all away. 

“Let’s just say that we are not on the best of terms most of the times.” She replied honestly. 

“Especially after Lyanna threatened to gut him alive.” Ben said.

She palmed her hand on her face. 

“Benjen, you should not say these things to outsiders.” Rhaegar said what she was meaning to say. 

“You all have gotten along well.” She commentated. 

“It is nice to have him around.” Rhaegar said. “Small people have their benefits.” 

Benjen playfully elbowed Rhaegar. 

She was shocked. She had heard about the Mad King. But Prince was nothing like the stories about his father. A royal could have taken major offense at that gesture, but Prince Rhaegar brushed it away like this was completely normal.


	2. Revelations

Rhaegar

Winterfell was amazing. He never thought it would be seeing the grim castle, but he loved it. There was no treachery here, no betrayal. 

At first, he had thought that Lyanna had given him the room close to hers so that she could seduce him, but she did nothing of that sort. Not even once. Which was strange to him. He was so used to maidens throwing themselves over him. 

She didn’t need to anyway. He liked her, a lot. He cannot marry her for his father will betroth him to Elia Martell or someone with the blood of Old Valyria, but if he wanted his wife to be like someone, it was Lyanna. 

He was also surprisingly happy here. At least until the thoughts from the real world entered his mind. 

And such thought was broken as Arthur came into the room. 

“We found it, the tomb of Bran the builder,” Arthur said. 

“Let me guess it is on the lowest level and in the furthest row?” 

“How did you know?” Arthur asked a bit shocked. 

“He was the first King, of course, he was buried first.” He said with a hint of anger. 

“Rhaegar, I couldn’t come up with anything else,” Arthur said with some remorse. 

“Looking for the grave of Bran the builder? Was that the best you could do?” He didn’t wait for Arthur to reply. 

“Anyways, have you made any progress on the other front? The actual reason we are here.” He asked. 

“The men haven’t reported yet,” Arthur said. “He could be anywhere.” 

“No Arthur, this is where I saw him in the visions.” He said. “Flying over Winterfell.”

“Rhaegar, there is nothing more we can do. There are six scorpions in the Wolfswood all aimed at the sky. The moment they see him they will shoot.” Arthur said. 

He did not want to do it. Meraxes was living peacefully here. But after the madness the dragon showed at Dragonstone, he had to. 

His response was broken by the entrance of Lyanna. She was dressed in her riding clothes which could also double as crypt exploration clothes. 

He immediately put a smile on his face. It wasn’t fake. The woman did it to him. He had never seen someone so pure as her. Untouched by the snakes that lurked in the south. 

“Are you ready?” Lyanna asked him excitedly. 

He sighed

“For what?” He asked back knowing exactly what she was referring to. 

“We are going to the grave,” Lyanna said. 

He couldn’t. There was a reason no one made a shrine at Brandon’s grave. The crypts were too weak at that level. He couldn’t risk his life like that. If he dies, House Targaryen falls with him. He is the person who is holding the realm together 

“Lyanna, I have lied to you.” He said after some time. 

He saw heartbreak on Lyanna’s face. It hurt him too. The girl considered him her friend. 

“About what?” Lyanna asked firmly and with a hint of anger. 

“I am not here to visit Brandon’s grave.” He said sadly and with regret. 

Lyanna breathed a sigh of relief. At least it wasn’t as large as him not being the Crown Prince but an impostor. 

“Then what are you here for, your grace?” Lyanna spat the last words. 

He looked over to Arthur for advice and Arthur nodded back to him. 

“Can I take your word that no one hears of it, not even Benjen?” He asked. 

“Yes, your grace,” Lyanna said again. But a word is a word. 

“I was a boy of two and ten and had just been anointed the Prince of Dragonstone. I wasn’t one of the best of fighters and my father wanted me out of the public eye as to not cause him embarrassment. A man approached me. He hailed a land far from here, somewhere in the center of Essos. He didn’t specify and I didn’t ask.”

“He said he had seen me riding atop a dragon in the flames. With him, he had brought three dragon eggs. Next day, being the child, I was, I jumped into a fire with the dragons. The next thing I know I have three dragons crawling around. I named them for the Conquerors’ dragons, Vhagar, Meraxes, and Balerion.”

Lyanna was surprised but not as much as he hoped.

He continued. 

“Three years ago. On a dark and stormy night, Balerion attacked Vhagar. I believe he wanted to eat him. In the fight that ensued, Vhagar suffered life-threatening injuries but he would heal. Balerion on the other hand, drowned as Meraxes wound him greatly and then dropped Balerion in the sea.” He recounted. 

“Both the dragons were fine for some time until Meraxes started to behave erratically. Then one day he ate a shepherd’s son. The shepherd had come to me with the tale but I had no choice but to dismiss him. But I knew that Meraxes had done it. The shepherd had described the dragon perfectly. He had killed his brother.”

Lyanna was listening intently now. 

“I planned to chain Meraxes to the Dragonmont. It was supposed to be temporary. But the dragon caught wind of my plans and fled, burning half of the crops of the island and gods know how many farmers as they tried to douse the fires.”

“He was good once, silent most of the time but he was good. I loved him, I still do. But I cannot allow him to live longer. I have seen him in the Wolfswood in a vision that I received, that is why I am here, to grant him peace in his life.” He finished. 

“Maybe he has changed,” Lyanna said. 

“I cannot take the risk.” He said. “A dragon can defeat an army. Especially if Meraxes followed Vhagar in size. He can set fire to half of the North before the ravens reach me.”

“If he wanted to, he would have done that already,” Lyanna said.

“I know.” He said. “And I want it to be true. But even a fraction of a risk is too much.” 

“He is a dragon. How do you plan on killing him?” Lyanna asked. 

'Killing' was a strong word. When Lyanna put it like that he didn’t want to. 

“I have six scorpions and thirty men stationed in the Wolfswood. They are told to look for anything abnormal in the sky.” He explained. 

“They will never find him. The Wolfswood is extremely vast.” Lyanna said. 

“That is why we needed access to the library. It has the maps of Wolfswood. A dragon needs clear space to hunt. This will save us plenty of time.” He said.

“Can’t you talk with him?” Lyanna asked. 

Why was she so interested in saving him? She stood to gain if the Targaryen might was reduced. 

“I can try but he might sense me coming close and then run away. After all, I birthed him in a way.” He said.

Lyanna’s reaction had been different than what he had expected of her. 

She knew something.   
“So you are not going into the Crypts?” Lyanna asked finally. 

“No, I cannot the risk.” He replied. 

“Well, I am dressed now.” She huffed. “Do you want to go riding?” Lyanna asked. 

What was the girl up to? He told her about dragons and her first thought was to go riding?

“Arthur here has to go to the library, but I can go with you.” He said after thinking about the logistics of the situation. 

“Perfect,” Lyanna commented as she turned to leave. 

He walked over to his wardrobe and put some furs on and left for the stables behind Lyanna. 

One of the things he had learned in the past two weeks it was that Lyanna rode well, too well. 

She had raced him three times and he had only won once. And he was sure that she had thrown that race away. 

They had ventured deep and deep into the Wolfswood. 

“Let us scale the peak,” Lyanna said breaking the agreed upon silence. “The view from there is gorgeous.” 

He couldn’t deny her as he nudged his horse behind Lyanna’s and they started to climb the peak. 

He had expected many things but definitely not what he was seeing. Meraxes was lying in front of him with his eyes closed. 

The dragon had grown a lot and was around the same size as Vhagar. He looked beautiful with the white on his skin matching the white sheet of snow all around on everything. 

“He sleeps a lot,” Lyanna commented.

She had met him?   
Of course, she had met him. She had lured him in here, on purpose. 

He stood there for a while soaking in the rain of memories that had been pouring in his mind until the urge to touch the dragon became too powerful. He couldn’t control himself. He walked straight over to Meraxes and kissed his neck and tried to wrap his arms around it. Whatever the dragon had done, he was his child and children committed mistakes. 

“Meraxes.” He called with his watery eyes. 

The dragon purred. 

And at that moment he was a child of two and ten. 

“I called you so many times, you never came home.” He said as he rubbed the great dragon’s neck. “But I am here now. Come with me, back to Dragonstone. Back to your home.” 

The home who decided to chain you. 

He felt the disagreement from Meraxes as the dragon came to his senses while waking up. The dragon shook his neck, breaking the physical bond he had with Meraxes. 

“I am sorry, but you had eaten a human.” He explained. “A child at that. I wanted to restrain you just for some time. I swear it was only supposed to be for a month or two as you returned to your old self. A dragon is not a slave to be chained, Meraxes. A dragon belongs in the skies.” 

Meraxes didn’t seem to believe it. 

“Come home, please.” He pleaded. “If not for me, come for your brother. He is alone at Dragonstone.”

For the first time, he didn’t sense a negative reaction from Meraxes. 

“I made a mistake, and I am sorry for that. Extremely so. I was still learning at that time, Axes. Please forgive me if you can.” He said. “Even if you do not, for what I tried to do was reprehensible. Meet with Vhagar at Dragonstone. He is lonely, and so are you here. You are brothers and deserve to be together. Don’t let the anger that you have on me come between the love that you feel for your brother.” 

From the corner of his eyes, he saw Lyanna come forward. 

“Stay back.” He said to Lyanna. 

“He won’t hurt me,” Lyanna said as she continued moving. 

“Meraxes go to your brother. Don’t torture yourself here. You may have the colors of winter, but you have a fire burning inside of you. You do not belong here. You are meant to fly high above the lands of summer.” Lyanna said as she also rubbed the neck of Meraxes.

Lyanna’s words seemed to have a larger effect on the dragon than his own as Meraxes began to rest on his feet. 

“Stay as high as you can around the Wolfswood, Axes.” He said. “There might be some hunters here.” 

Meraxes shook his head in disapproval. The dragon knew he was lying about some hunters

He was going to apologize to Meraxes again, but the dragon took off before he could say it. 

“I thought it would be more than that,” Lyanna said. 

“Meraxes has always been the quiet one.” He said. “He doesn’t say or do much unless there is a need. But when Vhagar needed him, he responded.” 

“Like my brother, Ned,” Lyanna remarked. 

He didn’t know Ned Stark, so he didn’t comment on the statement. 

“Why have you been hiding the dragons?” Lyanna asked him out of the blue.

“Dragons are powerful. When they were children Ser Barristan told me that someone might poison them. So, we never told anyone. Not even the king.” He said. “After that, my father started to grow mad and now I cannot tell him for Meraxes might choose him. The chances are slim, but they are there.”

“Winter will not choose a mad person,” Lyanna said. 

“I don’t know what is involved when a dragon chooses a rider. Balerion chose Maegor, yes they both were aggressive but Maegor? The man was mad, like my father.” He replied. 

“You called him Winter?” He asked after a while as they moved towards their horses. 

“He saved my life from wildlings a few weeks back,” Lyanna said. “I named him that then. I honestly thought that I could ride him one day.” 

“You can, but I believe it is highly unlikely. Touching the dragon and riding it are two different things.” He said. “Blood of Valyria makes it easier too.” 

Lyanna didn’t have a drop. 

“I can give you a ride on Vhagar someday if you come south or you can go to Dragonstone and try your luck with Meraxes.” He offered.

Lyanna chuckled. 

“I will settle for the ride.” She said.

 

On their way back, Lyanna touched on a topic that had been plaguing him for some time. 

“Do you know who she is?” Lyanna asked. “The bride that Steffon Baratheon is bringing.” 

“He didn’t find one.” He said. “The rumors are so that the king has time to find someone else by then. Perhaps some cousin house of the current Velaryons or probably Elia Martell.”

“The Queen asked for my hand a year ago,” Lyanna said. “I refused it.” She said after a pause. 

“I know, mother had called you a fool.” He said. “No one refuses a match with the Crown Prince.” 

“Father listened to me then. Now I think I will get shipped off to the Stormlands.”

This was news to him. If Rickard married Lyanna to Robert, the entire Realm’s balance of power would change. Robert and Eddard are well liked in the Vale, Brandon is to marry Catelyn, Lyanna gets the Stormlands. And just like that, the Starks have a high amount of influence over three kingdoms and complete control over the North. 

“You do not like Robert?” He tested her. “You will be the Lady of the Stormlands, it is a good match.” 

“No, he already has a bastard or two in some whore’s womb,” Lyanna stated. “I do not want a husband who will ridicule me like that. If I have to do my duty, I will, but I won’t be locked in the castle while my husband fucks whores” 

He could make out it was a touchy subject for Lyanna. He was forbidden from siring a bastard. They couldn’t risk a bastard rebellion, even his father had followed that policy. If in case a whore ever got with a child, the child would be killed while it was still in the belly. 

“I heard that Elia Martell is sickly,” Lyanna commented. 

“Yes, but she is one of the only few with Valyrian blood. She will have to do.” He said sadly. 

“You don’t seem happy.” 

“She is dornish and from what I have heard may already have a lover. On top of that, she will have trouble bearing children. She will never find happiness, and neither will I.” He said. 

For he will never have his three heads. 

“Why not Cersei?” Lyanna asked. 

“Lannisters have too much power.” He said. “She has no Valyrian blood. Additionally, father believes that Tywin is plotting against him. And he suspects I am doing the same.”

“Are you?” Lyanna asked. 

“No.” He said. 

He wasn’t. At least not yet but if the situation worsened he might have to. 

“That is enough about getting confessions out of me.” He said. “You said that you were attacked by wildlings.” 

“Yes, sometimes they come this far south. I do not know if that was the only group or if there are more, but I would prefer they stay on the other side of the Wall like they are supposed to.” Lyanna said with a bit of anger. 

Typical northerner. 

The sun was down when they reached Winterfell and it was getting cold. He was shivering, so Lyanna had lent him her furs. 

“You do not need them?” He had asked. 

“This is a typical summer day for me,” Lyanna said. “I can manage.” 

And she had managed. She never showed any signs of being cold.

When they entered the Keep, they went straight to the table where his friends and Benjen were eating.

They all rose when he entered but he just asked them to sit immediately. Benjen was sitting at the head of the table so Lyanna and he sat beside Oswell. 

“Arthur it is done.” He said simply. 

Arthur didn’t ask for any explanation. 

“Rhaegar, we have to move as soon as possible,” Oswell said. 

He raised an eyebrow. 

“Steffon Baratheon and his wife are dead. They died in Shipbreakers bay. So close yet so far.” Oswell relayed. 

“Any bodies?” He asked. 

“Thankfully no.”   
That was a relief. Even embalmed bodies rotted, and the funeral had to be early. This way he had more time. He had told his father that he would be in Riverlands. He had to make way soon. 

“Two weeks to White Harbour and then fifteen days to Storm’s End,” Arthur commented. 

“They wouldn’t do it before Robert reaches.” He said. “Robert would have the same problems as us. The Vale is even harder to navigate than the North, but we do have more distance to cover.” 

Robert. That was another headache for him. Steffon Baratheon was a true Baratheon but still, he could be reasoned with. From what he had heard about Robert, the man was a brute plain and simple. Six and a half feet tall and stronger than the Cleganes. 

Lyanna must be thinking the same. Her face was one of dread. She had told him that Robert liked her, Robert could send the betrothal arrangement today for Rickon Stark to verify. 

“Ser Oswell, send a raven to your brother so that he may pass it on to King’s Landing from his raven. Write that we will be at Storm’s End for the funeral.” He said. “And have Jon send a betrothal arrangement with the King’s will to Lyanna.”

Lyanna raised her head in shock. 

“Lyanna, Connington is a friend of mine and he is not interested in women. You would be happy to learn that I cannot have you marry Robert. Let the betrothal stand for some time until you find someone else. Someone less influential.” He said.

“Rhaegar, I will never go against the Targaryen” Lyanna said firmly as she got the hint. 

It wasn’t about her. 

“I know that you wouldn’t but there is a reason that your father has allied himself with the Vale, the Riverlands and now the Stormlands.” He replied.

“Those are just allies for the Winter. We can get grain at a cheaper cost.” Lyanna said. 

He laughed.

“You know how absurd that is too. Please tell me what is the surplus of grain from the Eyrie or the Stormlands? Vale gets you the knights, the Riverlands a foothold and Stormlands the ships.”

The tension in the room seemed to have increased by a great amount as no one spoke. He had accused the Starks of treason and he was glad that it was him who had found out. If it was his father, he would have burned them already.

He knew that Rickard Stark would find some reason for it. He might say that it was Robert who fell in love with Lyanna. It would be utter horseshit, but the King cannot execute a Warden for that. Once the betrothals are signed there is nothing he or his father can do. The game has already shifted by then. 

After he finished eating, he silently went to his room, alone after bidding Arthur and Oswell farewell. 

To his surprise, Lyanna was sitting in his room. 

He didn’t say anything as he went and sat opposite to her. 

“House Stark will not rebel while I live,” Lyanna said. 

“If they do, you know what I have.” He said. “I will not hesitate to use them if it came to that.” 

“We can make scorpions,” Lyanna said. 

The girl is too proud of her house. 

“So, you are saying that you will rebel?” He asked. 

“No, not that,” Lyanna said. “You know what I mean.” 

“That you are too proud to think that House Stark will be beaten?” He said. “Mind you even Torren Stark with his great army bent the knee.” 

It was a touchy topic for the Starks. 

“He saved his men,” Lyanna said. 

“I admire that, but that doesn’t change the fact. If he had fought, he would have lost.” He said. “And Rickard Stark will too if he comes after me or my family.” 

“I thought we were friends,” Lyanna said. 

“We are. It is not you who I worry about. It is your father and your older brother.” He said. 

“Brandon won’t rebel. He would be happy where he is.” Lyanna said. 

“I have heard that he is very impulsive.” He said. 

“Impulsive people do not plan,” Lyanna said. 

He had to change the topic. He had one more day here and he didn’t want to leave here on a sad note. 

“Come to visit me someday.” He said. 

“Dragonstone is too far away,” Lyanna replied.

“Have you ever been to a Tourney?” He asked. 

“To find me a knight in shining armor?” Lyanna replied with a smile. 

“You should come to one.” He said. “Chances are that Robert will host one in honor of Steffon’s life. Your brother is expected to be there. Maybe you can take Brandon with you too, have a family reunion.” He said. 

“And why should I do that?” Lyanna asked again. 

I get to see you again. 

“You are a Winter Rose but come to South and you will bloom. Everybody will know that your betrothal to Jon Connington is a sham. I can promise you that by the end of the tourney there will be a hundred ravens here demanding your betrothal. Choose among any of them.” He said. 

“No one would like me,” Lyanna stated. “I am too brutish to them. Not like those Southern ladies.” 

“Your wildness, if I can call it, is what gives you the real beauty. Sure, you are physically beautiful” He said “Very beautiful. But for the most beautiful ones, there is something special about them.” He said. 

“Cersei is arrogant and headstrong. Her confidence gives her the edge. Ashara Dayne is the sweetest girl you will meet but one smile from her and even the most honorable of ones cannot control themselves. You are different, not everyone will like you, but many will. People want something different, they want a breath of fresh air and you are that and more.” He said. 

Lyanna was blushing. 

“I might think about it. But I do not know anybody there.” Lyanna said. “If there was one in the Riverlands some Northerners might attend.” 

“Ashara Dayne, I will ask her to be there.” He said. “She won’t refuse me, and you will find that you will like her very much. Stop at Dragonstone for a week before.” He said. “I won’t be there, but I will have Ashara brought there.” 

“You trust her?” Lyanna asked.

“With my life. Arthur is like my brother. Daynes are the most loyal house to me. Vorian Dayne, Arthur’s older brother is close to Arthur and Ashara and has pledged to offer me a safe haven in case something goes wrong.” 

The important part was that the loyalty lied to him. Not his father. 

He was going to say more when he spotted a man staring at him through the door. Lyanna didn’t see him as she was facing him. 

He looked over the man. He looked like the embodiment of House Stark. 

Brandon Stark. 

Lyanna must have noticed him looking as she turned. 

“Bran,” Lyanna said as she walked over to the man. 

Brandon seemed to give Lyanna a confused look.

“Bran, this is my friend Vorian Dayne.” 

Vorian wasn’t in the best of health most of the time and he hardly left Dorne so the ruse worked well. And with his purple eyes and black hair he looked like a Dayne too. 

“Lord Brandon.” He said as he rose up and went to meet the man. 

“Lord Dayne, it is good to welcome you to the North,” Brandon said as he shook his hand. 

“Brandon, Vorian has been here for the past two weeks, writing about Winterfell,” Lyanna said. “You should listen too, beautiful poetry. He was just singing to me.” 

He had been writing about that. Lyanna was smarter than what he gave her credit for. 

“I hope to read it someday, Lord Vorian,” Brandon said. “But today calls for a celebration. Martyn bring the ale.” Brandon shouted from the door. 

Lyanna had Martyn Cassel swear to not tell his presence here to anyone and Martyn had obliged. After all, he was sworn to the Royal Family too. 

Lyanna whispered something in Brandon’s ear. 

“I am sorry to hear about Lord Steffon,” Brandon said as he calmed down. 

Brandon wanted to talk to him, but he was feinting tiredness. 

He could lie well but not well enough to cook up an entire life. Especially when drunk, he could trip with his words. 

“Alright then, Lord Vorian. You look tired. It was nice meeting you. The Kingsroad to the south is a bit slow due to the various landslides. If I were you, I would leave early tomorrow morning and take the road to the east and then take a boat on the White knife.” Brandon said. 

“Good night, Lord Brandon.” He said. 

“Good night, Lord Dayne,” Brandon replied as he went. 

This was it with Lyanna. 

“Goodbye then,” Lyanna said softly as she pulled him into a hug. 

He hugged her warmly too.

“Come to Storm’s End.” He said. 

“I will ask father,” Lyanna replied. 

“I will miss you.” He said. 

“Me too.”

The next morning, he was at the stables. Benjen had awoken the instant and was down there to see them off.

Benjen hugged all of them and cried as he parted with Arthur. 

Children. 

“I hope to see you someday.” He said.

“Can I be a Kingsguard?” Benjen asked. 

“Train well and value honor.” He said. “Make a name for yourself. Do not chase the Kingsguard, let the order chase you.” He said. “Don’t ask for it, have me ask you. You have the blood of the Kings of Winter, nothing is impossible.” 

He thought about it some more. Benjen was determined to be a Kingsguard and it made sense for him. He was the third son. 

“Arthur, how long till you knight Jaime?” He asked. 

“Two years, maybe one and a half,” Arthur replied. “Depends, I haven’t been spending much time with him recently but last I heard he was doing well.” 

Benjen was ten, right now. The perfect age for a squire. Being a Stark, Ben wouldn’t ask for the title, but it was a good learning opportunity. He would have Ser Barristan take him, but the Bold stayed in King’s Landing and he didn’t want to subject Benjen to his father’s presence. 

He would take him but he already had two squires. 

Arthur wasn’t the best of teachers, but he was the greatest knight alive. 

Arthur will have to do. 

“Benjen, I will ask Ser Barristan to take you as his squire.” He tested. 

He didn’t want to force it on Arthur. 

“Rhaegar, he won’t be happy in King’s Landing. Let me have him.” Arthur said. 

Right as he had expected. His best friend didn’t let him down. 

Benjen was grinning. 

“Benjen, there would be a tourney in Storm’s End. We will be there. In a few weeks, you will receive a raven with more details.” He said. “Take care of yourself until then. And promise me you will follow Arthur in whatever he says or I will send you back to Winterfell.”

“I promise,” Benjen said as he hugged him. What is with the Starks and hugging? 

Soon he was underway. Cregan accompanied them for some time. And somehow, he felt that Lyanna was within the direwolf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think. I am also thinking about an Ice dragon so let me know your thoughts on that.


	3. Arrivals

Lyanna

 

 

The past two weeks had been kind to her. Brandon hadn’t been able to meet Barbrey, and so he had returned earlier than expected. With him being here, she didn't need to sit on the throne and had made full use of that by taking Cregan for riding each day. 

 

Her brother was an interesting man. He was intelligent; he knew a lot about lordship, but he threw every one of his merits out in the snow when he came across a good-looking girl. She loved him but that didn’t stop her from worrying about him a lot. He is to be the next Lord Stark and if he sires bastards with a Northern lady while marrying a southern one; it is will cause him a great deal of pain later on. 

 

Today was a big day for her. Her father was coming back to Winterfell and that meant that her freedom was all over. When Brandon ruled from Winterfell, she was free. No one said anything to her, she could go riding as much as she wanted. But when her father was back, the restrictions returned with him. 

 

She was waiting in the yard with Benjen and Brandon to welcome their father as he came with Rodrick Cassel by his side. He looked very much like the Warden of the North, with his strong body and the hard look on his face. She might even say he looked like Rhaegar, they both brooded a lot. 

 

Her father dismounted and walked over to them. Benjen was the first one to hug him followed by her and then by Brandon. 

 

“Lyanna, come to my solar,” her father said stoically. 

 

“Father you must be tired, it can wait,” she replied immediately. 

 

“Lyanna, I would do it sooner than later.”

 

She couldn’t contradict that statement, so she followed him to his solar. 

 

“Have a seat,” her father said as he walked over to the window to look at the Godswood. 

 

“Lyanna, I came to know that you ruled Winterfell for a full two weeks. Where was Brandon?” 

 

“He went south. There were reports of some disturbance there,” she lied. 

 

Her father knew she was lying, but he nodded nonetheless. Sibling solidarity was more important than a lie whose truth he already knew. 

 

“The Prince has made moves,” her father said with a pause that increased the tension further. 

 

“What moves?” She asked curiously. 

 

“You are to marry Jon Connington in two years. I would much prefer Robert Baratheon over Connington, but my spies report that Jon Connington is set to be Prince Rhaegar’s hand when he becomes the King or maybe even become Aerys’s hand if Aerys’s reign lasts long enough,” her father said. 

 

She had expected that, but it still felt like a shock. Her father had finally sold her. 

 

“But, it is just a ploy to delay your betrothal. Jon Connington is not interested in marriage, at least not yet.”

 

“Father,  the Prince will try to delay my marriage considering that you are thinking of rebelling against him,” she tested Rickard Stark

 

“Lower your voice Lyanna, for the walls have ears.” 

“And I will never rebel against the Targaryens, I value the word that Torrhen Stark gave to Aegon the Conqueror. But someone else will, the King is mad, there is no doubt about it. The Targaryens do not have dragons or alliances to protect them this time. In the chaos that ensues, we have to look over ourselves.” 

 

“Father, be careful that your moves do not initiate the chaos in the first place,” she warned.

 

“Lyanna, I talked to Wyman in White Harbour and Hoster Tully in Riverlands. Both have assured me that the Prince is the only hope for Westeros. He is the thread that is holding the realm together.” 

 

“The prince is unmarried, he can form an alliance,” she replied. Marriages were the best form of alliance.

 

“It is almost but confirmed that the Prince will marry Elia Martell. A poor choice,” her father stated. “Dorne is too far away and far less powerful than the others that the Prince can choose between. There is also the fact that Dorne is not very well liked in the Realm.” 

 

“Do you have to marry me to Robert, father?” She asked. “What about Elbert Arryn? Brandon tells me that he is a good man and unlike Robert, I have met him.” 

 

“Lyanna, Jon Arryn still lives. Elbert is a good man, I agree with it. But if Jon takes another wife and sires a child, Elbert’s entire claim is gone,” her father said. “You will be the lady of nothing.” 

 

“What about Jaime Lannister?” She asked. Rhaegar had spoken highly of him. 

 

“Tywin is looking for Lysa Tully. Hoster knows that I know about that. He might take offense if I try to steal his daughter’s betrothal,” her father said. “From what Ned tells me, Robert is a good man.” 

 

“Ned is blind in his friendship of Robert. Every person I have asked tells me that he is siring bastards left and right. All Robert does is drink, whore and fight and I doubt he will change,” she said. “I can agree to a marriage, just not Robert.”

 

Her words pained her father. He didn’t want to marry her to Robert too, but it was required.

 

“Lyanna, go and meet him before deciding. There is a tourney at Storm’s End in memory of Steffon Baratheon’s life. Benjen is going there anyway, you can go along.” 

 

 

“Why is Benjen going there?” She asked

 

 

“Benjen wrote to Ser Arthur Dayne about being his squire. The Sword of the Morning must get hundreds of requests but this one played right into the Prince’s plans,” her father said with a bit of anger as Benjen had made a major decision without his permission. 

 

“Father, this will be good for Ben,” she said. “Ser Arthur is well known across the realm and I bet his reputation will only increase.” 

 

“I know Lyanna, but Benjen will have to be with the Prince all the time. It is dangerous for him,” her father said. “But I agreed to it. As you say it is an honor.” 

 

 

“Indeed, it is. But about the tourney, if I find someone at the Tourney that I like, will you agree to a match?” She asked. It was the best she could do. She had to marry at least it could be her choice.

 

Her father appeared to think over it for a while.

 

“Only if it is a great lord. There aren’t many lords attending, but if it is a powerful lord, I might think about it.”

 

“And Lyanna, I am not saying that because I am being ambitious. We need allies in the South, Roose Bolton is turning out to be different than his father was. We might even end up losing the North.” 

 

“Is the situation that dire?” She asked worriedly.

 

“Lyanna, if the King asks me to fight for him in the war that comes, I have two impossible choices. Either support a madman or be termed an oath-breaker. The southerners don’t take highly to words, but we do. My popularity will be lowered no matter which one I choose.” 

 

“Support the Prince,” she said. “The Prince not the King. You won’t break the oath or support a madman.” 

 

Her father smiled. 

 

“I have taught you well. It is what I am thinking of doing too. But unless something drastic happens, the lords wouldn’t rebel until the Prince dies. The game will only begin with the death of the Prince.” 

 

“You believe that the Prince will be assassinated?” She asked. It was absurd to think that someone would murder Rhaegar.  

 

“Either that or he dies of natural causes. The Prince has the favor of the people in the south. A rebellion is highly unlikely as long as he maintains his reputation of being the people charmer.”

 

She nodded. 

 

“Is Brandon coming along to Storm’s End too?” 

 

“No, I need him here. You can leave this week. The Tourney should be a few weeks after the funeral, so you will have more time. You will also have to drop anchor at King’s Landing as the Shipbreaker’s bay is too dangerous to enter. Buy some southern clothes from there as Storm’s End does get quite hot. You can take along some of your mother’s jewels from here with you too,” her father emphasized that she was going only to attract the highest bidder, Robert in this case.

 

“Father I am not one to wear dresses.” 

 

“I know Lyanna, but we must change. I have grand plans for the North. We are staying where we were a thousand years ago while the southerners grow in power and influence,” her father said. “North must be integrated closer to the realm.” 

 

 

______________________________________________________________________________

 

 

Rhaegar

 

The ride from the Parchments to Storm’s End had been hard. They hadn’t stopped at all during the days and it had paid off.  They had reached Storm’s End just a week later. 

 

He hated it, the castle of Storm’s End. He had been here before too and the hundred feet high curtain like walls never got less depressing. Many said that Dragonstone was gloomy, they had never seen Storm’s End.

 

“It seems Robert didn’t waste any time,” Arthur commented as they saw men laying the tents outside the castle for the Tourney. 

 

“Robert is known to like drinking and fighting. Both of them are in large supply during a tourney,” he replied.

 

The single tower of the castle stood like a fist in the sky, surrounded by the hundred feet high wall. It was a fortress unlike any other. The wall forty feet thick at the thinnest point.

 

As he entered through the gates, he saw a boy, a bit younger than him waiting for him with a welcome party.

 

_Stannis Baratheon._

 

“Prince Rhaegar, I welcome you to Storm’s End,” Stannis said with a quick bow. 

 

“Lord Stannis, I thought your brother was here,” he replied curtly.

 

“My Prince, he is here. However, he is busy with the preparations.” 

 

It was obvious that Stannis was lying, but he didn’t say much right now. However, that didn’t mean that he was happy. Lyanna hadn’t followed the norms that a lady should follow in front of the Prince, but he was fine with it because underneath Lyanna understood her place. This wasn’t an example of that. It was Robert’s duty to welcome him out here and yet Robert hadn’t. He had a good idea what Robert was doing but maybe, just maybe there was a chance that the Baratheon had a good reason for this.

 

“We have prepared rooms for you near the top of the tower,” Stannis said. 

 

“Lord Stannis, it seems to me that I am not welcome here. I would prefer to stay outside in a tent,” he replied. He had brought his men from Dragonstone. They would have the tent standing outside in less than two hours. 

 

Stannis nodded with embarrassment. To have the Prince come to their grand castle and refuse to stay in it spoke volumes and no doubt the rest of the lords will inquire the reason for it.

 

 

“But I will meet Lord Robert before I do that,” he said as Stannis thought that the worst had past. 

 

He wanted to see what Robert was so busy doing. 

 

“My Prince, maybe at a later time?” 

 

“Lord Stannis, if he is making some preparations, I can help. I have experience planning tourneys,” he said as he continued walking to the main hall.

 

“He is in his chambers,” Stannis said as he entered the Hall.

 

“Very well then, let us meet him there.”

 

He worried every time he went on the cages they called lifts. They had one in Hightower which he had traveled in and it was the most frightful experience of his life. He wasn’t afraid of the heights, he rides a dragon after all. It was just that if something went wrong, he was helpless.

 

“My Prince, the lift is currently not in working order,” Stannis said. “We can take the stairs, albeit there are fifteen flights of them to Robert’s chambers.” 

 

“Lord Stannis that is perfectly fine,” he said as he walked over to the stairs. 

 

It wasn’t perfectly fine. By the time he reached the top, he was a bit winded. He was in full armor and had just climbed over one hundred and fifty feet. 

 

“Robert, come downstairs. You are making a fool of yourself,” A man said shouting at what could only be the doors to Lord’s chambers.

 

The man noticed the clinking of their armor and his face was one of horror. 

 

“My Prince.” The man said to him with a quick bow. 

 

“Your grace, this is Robert’s friend, Lord Eddard Stark,” Stannis relayed.

 

_Lyanna’s brother._

 

“Lord Eddard it is nice meeting you. I came here to meet with Lord Robert,” he paused. “And help him with his overburdening tasks.” 

 

Eddard Stark stood pale. 

 

And the reason was clear to all. All of them heard the grunts and moans coming from Robert’s chambers.

 

Robert wasn’t all that Lyanna had said, he was also incompetent. Robert can fuck as many whores he wants to, but to do so over meeting the Crown Prince was a case for dismissal. 

 

“Lord Stannis, I think it is obvious that Lord Robert is still reeling from the loss,” he said. “I suppose we should head downstairs.”

 

Stannis’s face was all pink from embarrassment. 

 

Ned Stark went to the lift and pulled the lever. The lift arrived there moments later. 

 

Oswell’s laugh was all that was needed. 

 

“We will take the stairs, Lord Stannis. It might still be broken,” he said trying to cover the lies a bit. At the end of the day, he needed the Baratheon support. 

 

“Yes, that will be suitable,” Stannis said as they all moved back to the stairs.  

 

“Lord Eddard, I have agreed to your brother’s request to become my squire,” Artur said breaking the silence. 

 

Eddard was surprised. 

 

“Benjen?” Eddard said. 

 

“Well, Lord Brandon is a bit too old to be a squire, is he not?” Arthur japed. “Lord Benjen is coming as soon as possible and I believe he might be here in time for the Tourney.”

 

“That is good to hear, Ser Arthur. I am sure he will make you proud.”

 

“Lord Eddard, how did a man like you end up in Robert’s company?” He asked. 

 

And then waited for a pause to let the question’s real motive sink in before continuing.

 

“You are so quiet while my cousin is so full of life,” he finished, making the question less offensive.

 

“We both fostered at the Eyrie and our friendship grew from then. Robert is a good man, he just has some bad habits.” Ned said. 

 

 

The rest of their journey down the stairs was silent. Stannis didn’t utter a word. 

 

And soon they were outside the gates. 

 

“Rhaegar is the man a fool?” Arthur said. It was obvious he meant Robert. 

 

“It seems so, Arthur. Or he thinks himself too highly to welcome me,” he said. 

 

“Be wary of him, Rhaegar,” Oswell said. “Men like him make rash decisions.” 

 

He nodded. But all he could think of was what did Lyanna deserve to get married to a man like this. 

 

 

 

 

Ashara

 

 

She had received Rhaegar’s raven from Storm’s end. Lyanna Stark was coming to King’s Landing from where she will take the King’s Road to Storm’s End.

 

Rhaegar had asked for her to ‘take care of her’ and ‘treat her in the best way possible’. Rhaegar usually asked her to look after some guests but this time the request seemed more personal. Arthur had told her of their plan to go North for some errands, Rhaegar could have met the Stark girl there. 

 

She had no idea of what to expect. She had gone over some books that had Stark history on it and some portraits of the Starks. The Stark’s would be staying at their own manse in Rhaenys Hill, like most lords do.

 

 

The Stark ship wasn’t special. She was even surprised that the Starks had a ship seeing that there was no northern fleet and that the Stark lands were landlocked.

 

She instantly categorized the dark hair woman who was walking on the deck to her as Lyanna Stark. She was exactly like she described.

 

“Lady Lyanna, I am Ashara of House Dayne. I am to accompany you to Storm’s End and to act as your guide to this beautiful city,” she said with a smile.

 

“It is a pleasure to see you, Lady Ashara. Our mutual friend spoke very highly of you,” Lyanna said. “This is my brother Benjen.” 

 

She gave her hand to the boy and he kissed it quickly. He was still a child of ten and that was better than the way most men kissed her knuckles. They lingered too long.

 

 

“Please call me Ashara,” she said. 

 

“Only if you call me Lyanna,” Lyanna Stark replied. 

 

She smiled at the gesture.

 

“Lyanna, the tourney is a fair bit earlier than expected. We will have to move either tomorrow or the day after at the latest. Seeing as it is already evening, I can give you tonight to rest and unwind. We can tour the city tomorrow,” she said. 

 

“That is perfect, Ashara,” Lyanna replied. 

 

“Very well,” she said as she led Lyanna into a carriage while Benjen and Lyanna’s guard Rodrick Cassel got a horse to ride upon. 

 

 

She saw the frown on Lyanna’s face. Rhaegar had told her that she was a bit different than the typical maidens of the South and this was her assessment as well.

 

“Trust me, riding a horse in King’s Landing is not like riding outside in the open,” she said. “There will be a heavy guard with us through the Kingswood but after that, you can ride as your heart desires, all the way to the Storm’s End.” 

 

“What is happening in the Kingswood?” Lyanna asked with wonder. 

 

“There is a large group of bandits that the local lords are not able to restrain. The King is considering direct action in response,” she said. “A large host will escort us in the Kingswood so we should be safe.

 

She was sure that Lyanna was checking her out. The way Lyanna’s grey eyes lingered on her dress.

 

_Was she into girls?_

 

 

“I do not have any clothes for the summer. I thought that I would be able to buy new ones from here but with the time restraint, I am not so sure,” Lyanna said with a hint of embarrassment. 

 

_Well, that was disappointing._

 

“Do not worry, our mutual friend had me prepare everything and based on the description he provided, I had some dresses made. Alterations can be done in no time at all,” she said. It was one of the only things that Rhaegar specifically mentioned. 

 

Rhaegar had asked her to hide Lyanna’s dresses and give her the better ones. Lyanna would make fool out of herself if she wore her northern clothes there. The dresses she had procured for Lyanna costed more than a farmer’s house.

 

“He said so?” Lyanna asked. 

 

“Among other things,” she replied. 

 

“What other things?” Lyanna asked excitedly. 

 

“He said to treat you like a princess and grant you the same privileges that I have. To provide you with everything you need and desire. To have the best horse here ready for you. He has never spoken this highly of anyone. You must have made some impression on him.”

 

Lyanna didn’t reply but there was a blush if she looked carefully. 

 

The carriage stopped at the Stark manse in King’s Landing. It was well decorated with direwolves carved on its gates. 

 

“I heard you had a direwolf as well?” She inquired. 

 

It had made quite a buzz out here in King’s Landing. It was widely believed that a Direwolf was a creature of magic and the Starks having one had made Aerys unhappy that he didn’t have a dragon. But that wasn’t what the taunts were targeted at. Everybody mocked the Lannister bitch for not having a lion with her. It was just one of their ways to bring Cersei’s arrogance down.

 

“I do, Cregan is in Winterfell. I couldn’t have him restrained on a small ship for fifteen days,” Lyanna said. “Additionally, he might scare the guests.” 

 

She had more questions, but she would ask them some other day. 

 

“The name, Cregan, it is ironic as this manse was also given to Cregan Stark during the Hour of the Wolf,” she said to Lyanna. 

 

 

“Lady Lyanna the manse is ready for you.” The steward said. “Lord Benjen” The steward bowed to both. 

 

 

Lyanna didn’t ask her but she accompanied the Stark girl to her rooms. 

 

It was well decorated. She hadn’t expected much of the Northerners, but it might be better than the Dornish house. 

 

“Who stayed here the last?” Lyanna inquired the steward. 

 

“My Lady, this room is only for the Starks so the last person who stayed here was Lord Cregan. In the manse, the last guest was Lord Wendel Manderly as he headed to the Tourney yesterday with some Reachmen.” 

 

“That is all,” Lyanna said as she dismissed the steward. 

 

“Rhaegar would have liked to host you inside the Red Keep but because of the King he has asked me to keep you as far away as possible,” she said with an apologetic tone. 

 

“No worries,” Lyanna responded. “Is the king’s health that dire?” 

 

“I cannot say much but I can tell you that it is worse than the stories,” she said.

 

“Benjen” Lyanna said full of worry.

 

“Arthur generally stays away from King’s Landing with Rhaegar. Your brother should be safe from the King,” she said. “I will be going now and will return with the tailor in about two hours. Refresh yourself until then and we can have supper.”

 

“Thank you, Ashara,” Lyanna said. 

 

She nodded and then left the building. 

She returned exactly two hours later with the tailor.

 

Lyanna was in her room, wearing just a robe over what she believed were some smallclothes.

 

The tailor instantly went to work and took the measurements. 

 

“The clothes should fit without any alterations, but you can try them on to be sure.” The tailor stated. 

 

Lyanna nodded as the tailor asked his helpers to bring the clothes. 

 

The look on Lyanna’s face said it all. 

 

“How many are there?” Lyanna asked. 

 

“Thirty.” The tailor said. “As requested.” 

 

“No way I am trying all of them,” Lyanna said firmly. 

 

“My Lady that is the only way we can be sure.” 

 

“No,” Lyanna said. “One or two is fine. There must be a tailor at Storm’s End too who can alter them.” 

 

Most of the ladies were happy that they got to try on new clothes, and here Lyanna was the opposite as she sent the tailor home after trying on only two dresses. 

 

She exited the rooms and left Lyanna to dress for the supper.

 

______________________________________________________________________________

 

Rhaegar

 

 

“You owe me one, Rhaegar,” Jon said firmly as the redhead stormed into the tent.

 

“Is it done?” He asked. 

 

“Yes, I talked to Prince Martell. He has agreed to call off the betrothal. Trust me it wasn’t easy.” 

He had made the decision when he was in Winterfell. He wasn’t going to take a chance with Elia. The woman’s health was deteriorating every day and it would cause the throne huge problems in the future when she wasn’t able to birth heirs. There was some risk in sending Jon, but he had taken every precaution he could take to avoid Varys’s birds. Only time will tell if it worked.

 

“Thank you, friend,” he said as he put down his harp.

 

Elia Martell is undeserving of you but keep in mind that you can only stretch it so long.” “Sooner or later you will have to marry.” 

 

“Father will send someone else to Essos again,” he said. “Perhaps Lord Velaryon.” 

 

“Rhaegar, you need a Westerosi bride. The Realm is on the brink of a rebellion.” Jon rightly said. 

 

“And Jon do you have any ideas?” He asked in slight anger. “Everyone tells me so, but no one offers any solutions. I cannot marry Cersei, Lyanna Stark does not like marriage. There are too many Hightowers. Catelyn Tully is betrothed, and Varys tells me that Lysa loves another.” 

 

“Get the Stark girl,” Jon said. “Have someone unknown to the Realm as your Queen. Someone different than all those we have seen. The lords demand change and you have to give it to them.”

 

“You mean your betrothed. At least call her by her name.” 

 

“Marry Lyanna,” Jon said. “I do not like it, but it is the only way.” 

 

Jon made valid points. Lyanna was the best option. If he chose Cersei, he would gain as many enemies as allies. Lyanna was an outsider. Any plot against her would take months maybe years to make. But most of all Starks had no enemies in the South. They had always kept to themselves and that was a good thing for him now. Yes, many southerners would be angry that he left them for a northern girl but they would be less angry than if he marries Cersei.

 

“Jon, if you convince her to marry me and at the same time convince the King to marry me to her, I would do it in an instant,” he said. “If we marry for love, father won’t agree. And if Father forces the marriage, Lyanna won’t.”

 

“Rhaegar, get some Tears and end the damn menace,” Jon said. 

 

“I am not a, you know what,” he said. He didn’t want to say the word as there are spies everywhere.

 

_Kinslayer._

 

“No one has to know,” Jon said. “When you meet the gods let them punish you, but you will save thousands of lives while you live.” 

 

“I cannot do what you say but I fear I will have to resolve the matter some other way,” he said. 

 

“Rhaegar whatever you think, it will not work. He has hundreds of barrels of wildfire under the city and more being produced every day. Either Aerys rules over the city or no one does,” Jon said. 

 

This was news to him. 

 

“Jon, it has only been six months since I left the city,” he said. 

 

“Then you should visit more,” Jon said. “It is worse than you can imagine. You will know when you go see him.”

 

“What other option is there other than poisoning him?”

 

“Rhaegar, I wish there was one. There isn’t. The madman won’t step down without taking the city with him. Either you wait him out, which will have consequences, or you poison him. It has to be either you or your mother. He has everything else tested.”

 

He waved Jon away and put his hand to his head. Every single time he heard something about King’s Landing the situation grew worse. He couldn’t kill his father, he couldn’t. Whatever the man had done, he was still his father.

 

He picked up his harp and began to play a sweet melody. The song he had written about the North, about the snow, about the honor, about loyalty and about a certain maiden of Winterfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think about the chapter.  
> Some things I wanted to say: 
> 
> 1\. My writing style currently is more of like a script than a book. This is due to several reasons, one of which is that I am trying to move the plot quickly as there is a lot to cover. If you guys want larger paragraphs with less dialogue and more inner monologues and descriptions let me know!
> 
> 2\. The first two chapters were written by me in about three hours each and then I edited it by going over it once. Now I am thinking of putting more time into it and I think you will notice the difference. Over the weekend I wrote the next six chapters(~24000 words) but I am not happy with them so I will rewrite them keeping mostly the same story. 
> 
> 3\. Lyanna cannot get an Ice dragon. It simply isn't possible without delving into heavy heavy AU with a great deal of magic. Either the dragon comes to rescue Lyanna or Lyanna goes to the Lands of Always Winter. Both are highly implausible. But the future conflicts might mean that Lyanna might need some greater firepower than her direwolf. 
> 
> 4\. Also I will try my best to keep it as short as I can and some of you have asked for Jon's generation and that might(probably) come as a future sequel. 
> 
> 5\. If any of these relations(Or any others) interest you let me know. This work is tagged explicit and it will probably head there soon. Rhaella/Rickard, Ned/Elia, Brandon/Elia, Ned/Ashara, Jaime/Ashara, Cersei/Brandon, Ned/Cersei, Baelish/Catelyn(Dark Catelyn).


	4. Storm's End

Rhaegar - Mid 278

Today was the day that Ashara and Lyanna were arriving with Ser Barristan. He didn’t know what to think of his experiences with Lyanna, he liked her for sure but he didn’t know why. She had been honest and loyal to him, but so was Ashara. Then why did he have a certain feeling towards Lyanna that he didn’t have towards the other woman?

That wasn’t to say that he didn’t like Ashara. He loved her. The Dayne woman was almost as close to him as her brother, but in a sisterly way and definitely not the Targaryen sisterly way. He remembered the day six years ago when a one and ten-year-old Ashara had come to King’s Landing. He was a child too, just two and ten. It was soon after that he had left to Dragonstone but he had bonded with Ashara as she was the only one in King’s Landing close to his age. It was her who had recommended Arthur two years back for the position of a Kingsguard and that was the best decision his father had made in his entire life. 

Standing out in the hot sun he saw the next group come in. It was not Lyanna but quite the opposite. He saw the smug smile of Jaime Lannister and that meant that his sister wasn’t far off. He didn’t hate Cersei but he didn’t like her either. 

“Jon get me out of here,” he mumbled. 

“Rhaegar, this is a pit that you have to climb out of yourself.”

“I thought it was supposed to be a small Tourney,” Oswell commented as Cersei exited the carriage.

“Where Rhaegar is Cersei follows,” Jon said in a whisper. 

He saw the very instant Cersei’s persona changed after coming out of her carriage. He couldn’t possibly quantify the smile on her face. She had assumed that he was out here to welcome her.   
His attention would have been on Cersei if it wasn’t for another caravan approaching. The one he was waiting for. The one with the Grey direwolf, the stars on a sea of purple and the White banner of the Kingsguard. 

This is going to be interesting. 

“Lord Jaime, where are you these days? I hardly catch a glimpse of you,” he said as he met the heir to Casterly Rock. 

“Your grace, I am at the Rock, it is you who is doing heroics all across the kingdom,” Jaime responded as they shook hands. 

He didn’t know if that was a taunt or not. His martial skill was nonexistent before the tourney of Lannisport and most people said that the tourney was fixed. They said that Tywin asked his brothers and the Westerlanders to lose to the Crown Prince in order to appease the King. That hadn’t worked at all, however.

He moved to Cersei and placed a chaste kiss on her hand. If he lingered there a bit longer, Cersei would assume too much. 

“My Prince, I have missed you in King’s Landing,” Cersei said with a seductive smile. The one he had seen so many times before. 

I haven’t. 

“I have indeed missed you too, Lady Cersei,” he replied. 

He quickly turned his attention towards Lyanna and Ashara before Cersei could ask him about the tens of unanswered letters that she had sent. Lyanna and Ashara dismounted from their horses quite differently. Lyanna’s movement was more of a jump while Ashara’s was more graceful however it required more effort, a perfect comparison between the women. 

Jealousy was free for all to see in Cersei’s eyes. Could he not even look at another woman?

Both Lyanna and Ashara smiled as she saw him. Lyanna had written to him about telling whomever they came across that they both met each other at Gulltown as they couldn’t pretend that they didn’t know each other. It made sense too as he had told his father that he had taken a boat from Harrenhall to Gulltown before taking a larger ship. 

“Your grace,” Ashara was started but he pulled her into a hug. It was unlordly, but it was necessary. It was to send a hint to Cersei that she wasn’t the only woman in his life. 

“Just play along,” he whispered in Ashara’s ear. 

“I have missed you, Ash,” he said loud enough that Cersei heard it well. Ashara made sure to wrap her arms around his back tightly to further taunt Cersei. 

“Me too, Rhaegar,” Ashara said softly but slowly enough that Cersei could read her lips. 

“Rhaegar,” Lyanna nodded as she came to hug him too. He was sure that Lyanna hadn’t picked up the hint as to why but had just assumed that this was the way people met him. 

He couldn’t deny her. One look at her eyes and the perfectly genuine smile that she had on her pink lips made him tip over the edge and he hugged her tightly. He hadn’t thought about Lyanna at all this way in Winterfell, but a person missed things more when they were no longer there.

Cersei was red with anger. His plan had worked to perfection. His father had compared Tywin to a servant in Lannisport, he didn’t think of them that way but the Lannisters needed to know their place. They were rich and powerful sure, but they were just one kingdom and currently lacked alliances. In his opinion when Brandon marries Catelyn, the Starks might end up being the strongest house after his own. 

“Lady Cersei, this is Lady Lyanna Stark. A dear friend of mine,” he introduced the woman. 

Cersei nodded hesitantly as she acknowledged Lyanna. He didn’t know how Tywin had been furious at his father’s insult when Cersei treated everyone like a servant. Cersei might be the daughter of Tywin Lannister, but Lyanna was the daughter to the Warden of the North too. 

Lyanna being the woman she was didn’t even bother to respond to Cersei’s nod but instead passed her hand to Jaime who placed a kiss. It was bothersome to him that he had disliked Cersei’s possessiveness but now he wanted to murder Jaime as he had lingered on Lyanna’s hand a little too long. 

Next one to meet them was Benjen. Arthur and Oswell had gotten pretty close with the boy in Winterfell and so had he. 

“Jaime, this is Benjen Stark. Arthur’s new squire. Benjen this is lord Jaime Lannister. You both will be spending quite a fair bit of time together in the Kingswood,” he said acknowledging that an action from his father was imminent. 

He hated the Kingswood Brotherhood. It would take years to solve the menace that they have created. He trusted Barristan Selmy, but he needed the Bold to be in King’s Landing with his mother. If there was one man there who had a conscience it was Ser Barristan. Jonothor Darry chose which parts of the oaths he would follow, Prince Lewyn was a Kingsguard just in name, Ser Gerold did hold some love for his mother, but he was too old to do anything. 

“My Prince, I am tired from my journey,” Cersei said. 

Then go and rest. 

“Lady Cersei, granting your status, your rooms are in the tower in the castle,” he said politely. “Close to the top.”

“That is perfect, Prince Rhaegar.” Cersei said with a genuine smile for once. 

“Lyanna, your rooms are on the thirteenth floor with your brother Eddard.”

“No way I am living in there,” Lyanna complained instantly. 

If it was anyone else he would have been furious but right now he was elated. The woman knew exactly what he wanted her to say. He needed Ashara by his side and he cannot have her here alone, with Lyanna also staying here it worked as a better ruse. 

“Lady Lyanna, that is Storm’s End. One of the most historic and prestigious castles. Only a fool would reject residing in it.” Cersei mouthed. 

“I refused to stay inside too. I am out here in the tents. I can direct your men to lay one out here too if you desire, Lya,” he said relishing in Cersei’s embarrassment. She had indirectly called him a fool. 

“My Prince, why are you helping us out here?” Lyanna asked. “Isn’t it Lord Robert’s job?” 

“Lord Robert is still reeling from the loss of his parents. He is under a heavy burden,” he said. “I thought I could help him out.” 

“That is so gracious of you, my Prince. Maybe I should have my tents lain outside too and give him time to cope with the tremendous loss,” Cersei said but he didn’t miss Jaime’s sigh that turned to approval in a second as Cersei gave Jaime a murderous look. 

“Lady Cersei, Storm’s End is a historic and prestigious castle. Don’t you want to live inside it?” Lyanna mocked, repeating Cersei’s words from earlier. 

The look on Cersei’s face was one to remember for eternity. No one dared mock Cersei, not even Ashara did so. 

“On a second thought, the castle does not appeal to me.” Cersei countered. “I would much prefer it out here in the open.” 

He nodded and dismissed the situation. “I will have the men some space for you and your escort, Lady Cersei.” 

Far away from his tent. 

“Thank you, my Prince,” Cersei said as she went back into the carriage for her visit to Robert. Lyanna and Ashara did the same as they followed Cersei.

Jon, Oswell, and Arthur immediately broke into laughter. 

“Rhaegar, marry her already,” Jon said between the laughs. 

“I told you, Jon. There is no one like her. No one.”

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Lyanna

She wondered how the people lived here while she waited for the Lannisters to get out of the throne room. This castle was quite literally like a cage with the hundred feet high wall around it. She had made the right decision, she would much prefer a tent over whatever rooms Robert could provide her.

“What did you think about the Lannisters?” Ashara asked her. 

“That my beliefs were true.” 

Ashara laughed but what she said was right. In a few moments, she had decided that Cersei was not going to be a friend. She can only imagine how Cersei treats a normal lady considering she treats a daughter of a Warden like that. Jaime seemed to be better but she wanted to wipe that smug smile off of his face. 

“Lord Robert is ready for you, Lady Lyanna,” a guard said to them and she entered the doors. 

Robert Baratheon looked as lordly as anyone could as he was sitting on the throne. The man was huge, muscular and confident. She also noticed the way Robert’s eyes were staring over both her and Ashara. If she could, she wanted to slap the man but she wondered if it was just a habit for him. 

“Lady Ashara it has been a long time since I last saw you,” Robert said politely and with a smile. 

“Indeed, it has, Lord Robert.” 

“And you, my Lady?” Robert asked. 

“Lyanna of House Stark,” she replied. 

“Oh yes yes. I apologize, my lady. I see the similarities now. Your brother has said much about you but now I can confidently disregard his boasts as understatements,” Robert said. 

You barely know me.

“And this must be Lord Benjen,” 

“I am. It is nice to meet you, Lord Robert. My brother Ned has written many good things about you,” Benjen said. 

“Lord Robert, we offer our most heartfelt grievances in regard to the late Lord Baratheon’s death,” Ashara spoke smoothly. 

“What is done is done. We can only move on. Although, he was a good man and she a great woman,” Robert said with a hint of sadness but the statement looked rehearsed. 

“They were, Lord Robert,” she said. “Ned has only written about them a few times, but he always had a high opinion of them.” 

“Ah, remembering Ned. You must be dying to see him. He has gone on an errand for me and will be back in time for the evening feast,” Robert said. 

“My Lord, isn’t the feast tomorrow?” Ashara said.

“There are two feasts now, one for the guests today and the larger one tomorrow,” Robert stated. 

She understood the Baratheon way of celebrating a life but this was getting ridiculous. 

“If we may?” Ashara asked. 

“Yes, yes. Rest and please attend the feast. I would hate if two of the loveliest ladies weren’t there,” Robert stated. 

She quickly headed outside. “He doesn’t seem like a person who lost his mother and father,” she commented after coming out of the hall. 

“They say he watched the ship drown in front of himself,” Ashara said. “That must have taken a toll on him.”

Maybe but all of this fit in perfectly with what people had told her about Robert. She didn’t say much as she returned to the Tourney grounds where Rhaegar’s royal tent overshadowed everyone else’s. But if she knew the Lannisters they would do anything to have a larger tent. 

“How was Robert?” Rhaegar asked as he put his harp to the side.

“He didn’t seem sad as you described,” she said. 

“You should have seen him when I arrived. The funeral was already done by the time I reached, but he was fucking three whores instead of coming to welcome me,” Rhaegar said.

“Surely you are making this up,” she said. “No lord can get away with not welcoming the Crown Prince.” 

“Ask your brother, he was there,” Rhaegar replied. 

“I will,” she said. She wouldn’t believe it. 

 

“Arthur your squire is here,” Rhaegar said. 

Arthur got the message as he took Benjen and headed out of the tent. 

“How was King’s Landing, Lyanna?” Rhaegar asked with curiosity. 

“The Red Keep lived up to expectations but apart from that the city stank and was too dirty. Not at all what I expected,” she said. 

“See Ashara, I told you that she is honest,” Rhaegar said while Ashara nodded. “Yes, the sewers need to be remade and the city needs to be expanded,” Rhaegar continued. “I plan to do at least that during my reign.” 

“I heard that your betrothal fell off,” she said sadly. 

“Yes, the dornish decided not to marry Elia to me. Father is sending Lord Velaryon now to Essos to find me a new bride.”

“Is a Valyrian bride a requirement set in stone?” She asked in wonder. She as a Stark and a descendant of first men would prefer that Rhaegar marry a Westerosi than a foreigner. 

“For my father, it is. I think it is a bad decision. A foreign bride would get me no new support. If father’s reign is weak, mine will be weaker no matter what I do. But then again any bride would be better than Cersei.” 

“You don’t like her?” She asked.

“No one does. She is intelligent but considers herself more so than she is. She is beautiful of there is no doubt but if I want a beauty, I can marry a Lysene whore. The only reason she is considered is because of her name. The Lannisters are the strongest house in Westeros. Sure, the Tyrells have more men, but in reality, there are four large lords in the Reach, the Westerlands are all ruled by one house, like the North.” 

“You still haven’t answered my question,” she said. 

“No, I don’t. I know she already has a lover, but I do not know whom. If the woman today is chasing after me while she has a lover, who is she loyal to?” Rhaegar said. “I don’t detest her if that is your question. If I get permission to marry her, I will, but I won’t like it.” 

“And who would you like marrying?” Ashara asked seductively.

“Certainly not you, Ash,” Rhaegar said with a laugh. 

Ashara mocked anger. But they all knew that Ashara was never in the running. House Dayne is a strong and proud house, just not strong enough to be considered for a Queen albeit they did have one in the past. 

“I wouldn’t mind Lyanna,” Rhaegar said weakly. 

“Wouldn’t mind and like are different things,” she said. 

“I will certainly like it,” Rhaegar said now with more confidence. 

She hadn’t expected that. “Really‽” She asked in surprise. 

“Yes, if you agree to it. I will marry you,” Rhaegar said. 

She considered her choices. She had to marry, the other option was off the table. And the most probable suspect was Robert Baratheon. She didn’t know much about Robert, but she did know much about Rhaegar and they were all good things. When she looked over him, she saw a very complex man with many layers to him but not at all unpleasant. He would certainly be better than most of the others and on top of that, he was the best match she could get. There was no one higher to marry than the Crown Prince. 

“Then I agree,” she said. 

She immediately noticed the shock on Rhaegar’s face. He had thought that she wouldn’t agree?

“So Rhaegar, when is the marriage?” Ashara asked breaking the tension that was on both their faces. 

“Not like this,” Rhaegar said. “I cannot make the decision. Father would think that I am plotting against him. The order has to somehow come from my father.” 

Just when she thought she had sorted the troubles out. 

“If Lyanna is serious I can start making the plans,” Rhaegar said. 

Was she serious? Not many people had the opportunity to choose their own husband, but she did. She wasn’t in love with Rhaegar. They were friends, not even close friends. But both of them had the other as the pick of their choices. 

“I am serious,” she said. “I will choose you over Robert every day,” she said. 

“And why is that?” Rhaegar asked. 

“Why is it that you chose me over Cersei?” She answered back by a question. 

Rhaegar didn’t reply. 

“It is simple, we like each other more than the alternatives,” she said. 

 

The peace was shattered by an angry and huffing Jon Connington make his way into the tent. Does nobody have to ask for permission when entering the Crown Prince’s chambers?

“Rhaegar, Cersei is asking for you outside. Seems she is not happy with the location of her tents.” Jon said.

“She got one of the best spots, the one with the sea view,” Rhaegar replied. 

“Maybe she wanted another type of view.” 

“Tell the witch that the view is already taken,” she said back as Ashara laughed. 

“My Lady, why don’t you go and tell her that,” Jon said. 

“Can’t you do that for me, my betrothed?” She copied Ashara in her tone. She would go out and tell Cersei to shut up but it would not be subtle. 

“No, I cannot,” Jon said. “Cersei will eat me alive if I go there again. We aren’t on the best of terms.” 

“Cersei will be fine with whatever land she got,” Rhaegar spoke firmly. “This is not the Westerlands. She is a guest here and she will behave as such. Jon, go and tell her that.” 

“Rhaegar, don’t anger the Lannisters,” Jon said. “She is quite close to Jaime.”

“Jon, I am not holding a court here. Whatever she has, she will remain happy with it or she can go and reside inside the castle,” Rhaegar spoke. “She might have the Westerlands and her father might be the Hand, but to me, she is just another lady and I would much prefer Lyanna and Ashara close to me.” 

Connington had nothing to say to that and promptly left the rooms. 

“Does this happen frequently?” She asked. 

Ashara laughed. “Every single time. The woman is mad about Rhaegar. In the beginning, Rhaegar liked that but now he just gets angrier and angrier at the gall of the woman.” 

“I never liked her,” Rhaegar defended. 

“Oh, you mean you wrote a song that was basically flattery because you disliked her?” Ashara retorted. “Admit it.”

“Fine” Rhaegar relented. “But she has made a mockery of me with her demands. Sometimes I wonder that my father is indeed right. The Lannisters think of them too highly. What is a lion in front of a dragon?” 

Or two in this case.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Rhaegar 

 

He was sitting in the seat of honor, alone. There was no other royal here. His eyes were fixed on the Stark table where Lyanna, Ned and Benjen were sitting. Robert Baratheon was busy fondling with servants and Stannis was looking at everybody much like he was. Jaime Lannister was acting like any boy of his age and the others, well they didn’t matter. 

He felt a tap on his shoulders that immediately broke his stare. He had told Arthur to let him know when some guest was coming. It was Cersei once again. 

“My Prince, I could not see that you are sitting here all lonely,” Cersei said. “Care for a dance?”

“Lady Cersei, we have already danced together twice,” he replied. 

“Your grace, there aren’t many people here that I would dance with. If it is no bother.” 

He wanted to say no but this was a very public setting. 

“Of course, Lady Cersei.”

Cersei smiled brightly. She was a perfect dancer. Even better than him, but then all she had to do in her life was to dance and learn to swing her hips to land a husband. Not like Ashara who had to fight with the world every day to get them to respect her or like Lyanna who knew how to ride, draw a bow, use daggers, rule and a whole lot of other things. Things that impressed him to no end. 

He spotted Lyanna a few times, she was busy chatting with her brother. Ned Stark was an interesting man, one he had hoped he would be able to convert into his ally but the Quiet Wolf was too close to Robert. This was dangerous for Ned, Robert was a man who thought with his warhammer and he can probably weather a scandal or two. He is, after all the lord of the Stormlands, but Ned, all he has is his honor and reputation. Living with Robert might mean that both of those things would soon become dust. 

He waited and waited for Cersei to close the dance but she wasn’t relenting. So he had to intervene.   
“Lady Cersei I think we have danced enough,” he said. “Others are waiting for the opportunity too.” 

Cersei had to agree with it. “Of course, my Prince. Thank you for the pleasure.” 

He thought about whom to dance with. He wanted to talk with someone he will actually like. Either Ashara or Lyanna and the one in sight was Lyanna. She must have understood his intentions as she rose from her seat and walked towards him.

“I saw that you were enjoying the session with the Lannister witch” Lyanna taunted.

“She is quite something, isn’t she. Her perfect figure, soft supple face, and golden hair.” He returned the taunt. “And then you hear her talk and all of that takes a nosedive.” 

“You really hate her,” she said. 

“I hate what she represents. The unpleasantness of King’s Landing and the royal court. You won’t understand, I saw how the people look to you in the North. That kind of loyalty is hard to find. The Starks have ruled for eight thousand years and I am sure that the Targaryens won’t last eight if I didn’t have the dragons.” He whispered the last part. 

“You underestimate yourself. Everybody in the North loves the Targaryens. Aemon the Dragonknight is perhaps the most famous person in the North.” Lyanna said. 

“For one Dragonknight there was also one Aegon IV. The dragons were what the realms bent the knee to. If we marry, we will secure the future for at least till our grandchildren but otherwise House Targaryen is doomed.” He said.

“Then why are you so worried?” Lyanna said. “It will happen, we will marry and then everything will be fine.” 

“I don’t know but I have this feeling that a war is coming. It would be utter foolishness to go against the Crownlands, North, Riverlands, Dorne and probably Vale, but there is something that is telling me that a war is on the horizon.” 

“An invader from Essos?” Lyanna asked. 

“I don’t know. I really don’t but I would rather have a rebellion now and put it down rather than have one in our children’s time.” 

“Enough about war. Enjoy what you have.” Lyanna said. “Tell me how do I look?”

“I didn’t expect you to ask this question,” he replied. 

“Ashara spent three hours dressing me. A word or two in praise would be good. But please be honest.” 

He went over her. Dark hair with equally dark eyes, the colors of obsidian that he had found on Dragonstone. She was tall, the perfect height for him. More muscular than Cersei or Ashara but not unpleasantly so. Her proportions weren’t as good as Cersei’s, but they were close. She was wearing a blue and white dress, much like the skin of Meraxes. Lyanna wasn’t for everyone, some people wanted the delicate feminine beauty but he didn’t. He wanted a Queen. One that would stand up to him when he did something wrong. One that would reward him if he did something right. He didn’t want a Queen like his mother, he wanted what Rhaenys was to Aegon. 

“If I was like Robert, I would go to war over you.” He replied. 

Lyanna blushed but immediately composed herself. Then she started eyeing him from top to bottom. “You don’t look half bad either.” 

“Half bad‽” He gasped. He was known as one of the most handsome men in the world and here Lyanna was saying that he wasn’t half bad. 

“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant to say that you look………. not good.” Lyanna said with a laugh. 

He had to laugh. The gall of this woman was over him. “What can I do to improve that?” He asked. 

“What you just did. Put a smile on your face. What are you worried about? You have dragons, you are the Crown Prince and can marry whomever you want. I would kill to have your life.” 

“Trust me you wouldn’t want it.” He said as he twirled her with him. 

“And why is that?” She asked. 

“Family,” he said. 

“Stop worrying about your father. Even if he burns a person a day for the next ten years he will only burn four thousand. Some of them might even deserve it. A war against him will cost far too many lives.”

“The problem is that he will burn and we will still have a war. From what Jon told me his situation is deteriorating quite a bit. It won’t be long before he burns a person like Tywin.” 

“It is not your problem. All I can say is that stay away from King’s Landing. Give the people a choice other than Aerys or Tywin.” 

“How did we reach here again? I thought we weren’t talking about a war.” He said changing the topic. “How do like Storm’s End?”

Lyanna laughed. “War seems to find us. Storm’s End is a formidable castle but I wouldn’t live in it. The seas are too risky, there is no beach and there are rocks all over on which even I am scared to ride. The fields are fine, but they get boring after a while.” 

He felt sad at Lyanna’s statements. How was he to make King’s Landing like Winterfell for her? She was a lady who loved the open and King’s Landing was not that. The waters there were too busy and the woods infested with bandits. Dragonstone was much better in this way as the hills were made for riding but he cannot rule from there. 

“I have to be honest with you, Lyanna. If you love riding, you will have to find a different hobby. King’s Landing is not exactly the best place to ride.” 

“Wait, you will let me ride if I find a place?” Lyanna asked in amazement. 

“Of course.” He said. “Do what makes you happy but within reason. I won’t let you ride if there is a chance of significant harm to your life.” 

“I think I can agree to that. I like archery too.” 

“You can practice that as much as you want in the Red Keep. But there will be responsibilities for you too. We will rule together and will take our turns on the Iron Throne.” He said. 

“No Queen has ever done that. Not even Alyssane to Jaehaerys.” Lyanna commented.

“It is necessary. Power corrupts, this way we can have a check and a balance. I do not trust my blood, I will have the lords swear a new vow to both me and you.” He said. 

The person sitting on the throne thinks that he can get away with anything. Most of the Targaryen Kings didn’t do well because they needed to. They just did good because they will be remembered for the better. He trusted himself, but the precedent has to be set for his heir in the future. He will raise his children the best he can, give them more time in a year than what his father gave him in his entire life but there is always a chance. 

“I would like that,” Lyanna said. 

“But you will have to give away your name,” he said. “It will be Lyanna Targaryen who the people will swear to.” 

“Names do not make people. I would serve my family to the best of my abilities.” Lyanna said. It was clear that by family she meant her family with him and her family at Winterfell. 

He started laughing then. “It is strange. We decided out of the blue today that we are going to marry and now we are thinking about our little dragons.” 

“Little pups.” Lyanna corrected. 

“Dragonwolves but more dragon.” He said. 

As if on cue, the song ended and that was the last song of the day. 

“Come to my rooms, I have a gift for you.” He said softly. 

Lyanna nodded and they both slipped past everyone. People were too drunk to notice anyone, not even him. 

The moment they passed through the flap of his rent, the gift was visible in all of its glory. 

“Is it?” Lyanna asked in awe as she ran towards the Dragonbone bow. 

“Yes,” he said. 

It was one of the best ones ever made and certainly the best in existence. “This is better than all of Essosi dragonbone ones. Those are made from the bones of the dragons buried in the ground, this is made from a far better quality of the bone,” he said. 

Lyanna gave the string a few stretches before launching an arrow into the bedpost. The arrow buried itself right inside it. 

“Thank you,” Lyanna said as she let loose another arrow. 

“It has been in our family for centuries, but no one uses it,” he said. “So, I thought I could give it to you for helping me save Meraxes. But now it will still stay in the family which is even better.” 

“It still has the dragons on it,” Lyanna commented. 

“You can wrap some leather over it. I didn’t want to destroy the engraving as it is quite elegant. But it is only for a couple of years. Once we marry you can show as many dragons as you like.”

Lyanna put the bow on her back and walked over to him. Her intention was clear. 

“Lyanna, there is no need. You have already given me far more in return than what I have given you.” He said. 

“Just shut up,” Lyanna said as she put her arms across her neck and brought him down to make sure that their lips met as naturally as they could. 

A strange feeling went over him when the lips met. He wrapped his arms around Lyanna hoping to never let go as their tongues played a dance. Lyanna was also inexperienced in this but she tried her best and he did too. 

They parted after what seemed like hours. 

“That was a bit longer than I expected,” Lyanna said. “But I liked that.”

He pulled her back in. It felt so good. A kiss was something so intimate that it alleviated his mood a lot. He was not alone in this fight anymore he had someone. Someone worth living for. 

“Till we meet again,” Lyanna said as she began to leave. 

“Stay,” he said.

“People will talk,” Lyanna said sadly as she turned. “Good night.”

“Let them,” he replied. “Let them say whatever they will. Once we marry they will write songs about this.”

“You are going to be the end of me,” Lyanna said to him as she turned. 

“And you of me.”

They talked and talked, until way past midnight after which he took Lyanna to her tent. 

“Rhaegar, love is the death of duty,” Arthur said on their way back. 

“Fuck duty,” he replied. He had given all his life to duty, no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late chapter. The next few chapters are written with the one after this one coming shortly.   
> The story will slow down a bit as I don't need to introduce characters as much and I can promise you that it will live up to its explicit rating.   
> I want to keep this mostly Rhaegar/Lyanna centric but there will be other POV's, let me know which ones you would like as I can always fit in something.


	5. Conversations

Lyanna

Her brother was sitting at the dining table waiting for her to break their fast. She had never felt this before considering her family, but she felt as if she couldn’t trust Ned anymore. It had only been three years since he had left but he was a changed man now. He was stronger, braver and smarter yet his shyness still kept to him. She had thought that it would diminish with time, but it hadn’t. 

None of that was of concern. The thing that concerned her was his closeness to Robert. He was acting like a puppet to Robert here from what Rhaegar had told her. Granted there were benefits to being friends with a man at a high place like Robert, but he was sailing too close to the storm. 

“Where were you last night, Lyanna?” Ned asked curiously and a bit firmly. 

“With someone,” she told the truth. She did care what Ned thought of her, but she was not going to become a liar out of cowardness. 

“Lyanna you are betrothed to Jon Connington,” he said with genuine concern. Ned hadn’t expected her to tell it so bluntly. 

“It is a sham betrothal and you know that too,” she said. “And I didn’t say that I was with a man.” 

“But you were, weren’t you?” Ned accused her. 

“Yes,” she said. 

“Lyanna do not go against the King’s deed,” Ned said with tension over his face. “Jon Connington is close to the Crown prince. It will have dangerous repercussions for our family.” 

If only he knew. 

“Ned, did you see Robert last night at the feast?” She asked politely, ready to burst at his reply. 

“Yes, I saw him quite a bit,” Ned said as he filled her cup with hot tea. 

“Then, how did you think about betrothing me to him?” She said loudly and with anger, enough for Ned to spill the tea in her cup. It ruined the tablecloth but that wasn’t her worry. 

“Lya, he isn’t a bad man,” Ned said, assessing the situation. 

“No, he just groped every woman and fucks every whore,” she said. “Infidelity isn’t a crime, at least not for men. However, try to picture if father fucked another woman while mother birthed Benjen.” 

Ned went red at the insinuation but calmed down and put his hands to his head. 

“He said he will stop when he married you,” 

Why didn’t he understand? Did Robert have so much control over him? “Marriage cannot change a person’s nature, Ned. But that is beside the question, I will never marry him.”

“He isn-“ Ned began to say but she cut him off. 

“Ned, I won’t. I love another.” She said in rage. She didn’t know what she had with Rhaegar was love or not, but it worked as a valid reason and it shut Ned up immediately. “Father will approve of him,” she added to calm him down too. 

Ned nodded dropping the subject. 

“What are your plans for the future?” She asked. Her father had asked her to ask Ned about them. He was looking for a bride in the North and his next moves depended on Ned’s answer. He was well-liked in the Vale; her father could pay Lord Arryn to give Ned a keep there if he liked it. It would be good politically as they would have some influence in the Vale. 

“Join the Night’s Watch,” Ned replied. 

“No.” She said immediately. No matter what she thought about Ned right now, he was her little brother and he was definitely not be going to the Wall to freeze himself for the rest of his life. “Benjen is already thinking of joining the Kingsguard. I don’t like it and when I tell father, he won’t let you go north of Winterfell,” She said.

“The Starks have manned the wall for millenniums.”

That was true. “They have, but no. You are my brother, you will not be going there,” she said. “If you are fearful that you won’t have your own castle, I can have Ashara find some Dornish heiress in Dorne. There are many who would marry you in an instant.”

She saw a flash on Ned’s face when she named Ashara. She couldn’t specify what emotion it was, but he was a bit surprised to hear her name. 

“I am a Stark, Lyanna. Dorne is on the other end of Westeros.”

“Wolves survive, Ned. You will too,” she said. It was evident on Ned’s face that he had no interest I going to Dorne. Ned was far different from a typical Dornish lord. 

She thought about what she could do with Ned. If she became Queen it would be easy, she would ask Rhaegar to appoint Ned as the Master of Laws or some other high position. But otherwise, there wasn’t a whole lot she could do. 

She finished her food before kissing Ned goodbye on his cheek and headed to Ashara’s tent. 

“Your brother is very innocent,” Ashara said with a wink. 

This confirmed it. Something happened between Ned and Ashara. “And how would you know of his innocence?” 

Ashara smiled at her before making it clear that the answer to her question would be kept hidden. 

“What are you doing today?” Ashara asked her. 

“I have no clue. There is nothing to do here. The ground is filled with rocks which even I am hesitant of riding over,” she said. She loved riding, but she knew her limits. One fall here and it would be all over. There wasn’t any soft snow here to save her. There were the fields on the other side, but she had already ridden through them.

“We can roam the tourney grounds. Mummers generally have shows out there and we can also catch the knights in training,” Ashara said. 

So that is what they did. They headed out to the tourney grounds and watched some shows on the Conquest and Orys Baratheon’s valiant attempts at taking Storm’s End, it was Meraxes who won the battle in reality, but the mummers safely excluded that. There were other feats of Baratheon bravery half of which seemed like exaggerations. How did a man fight against an entire Kraken and win? It was a way to idolize Baratheon strength and she hated that. The southerners portray themselves as false gods while they laugh on the Starks of bending their knees to prevent a massacre of thousands of people. 

Soon, the shows were over and seeing that there was nothing to do, they headed over to see the knights practicing. They were both there for different reasons. Ashara was here to see Arthur while she was here to see the horsemanship of the southerners. 

“Who do you think will win the Tourney?” She asked Rodrick Cassel her sworn sword for this trip. 

“Either Ser Barristan or Ser Arthur,” Rodrick said. “The Prince and Lord Jaime Lannister ride well but the Kingsguards are legendary in their ability. Half of the jousts are fought in the head. The Kingsguards will win it because they know they can.”

“What about Robert?” She asked. 

“He won’t win the jousts. If there was a melee Lord Baratheon would beat all of them, but this is a small tourney.” 

“And who do you think will win a duel if everyone fought everyone,” she asked hoping that Rhaegar’s name popped up. 

“Ser Arthur followed by either Ser Barristan or Lord Baratheon,” Rodrick said. “Lord Connington is good too but it will be Ser Arthur. I saw him fight in the morning in a practice match with lord Jaime. The skill he possesses at his young age is unparalleled to anyone. My father served your father for many years and even he, at his prime was nowhere near Ser Arthur.”

Ashara had a smug smile on her face. 

“Why not the Prince?” She asked feeling agitated that Rhaegar wasn’t the best at anything. 

“I haven’t seen the Prince much, but I have heard about him from here. A person simply cannot compete with the brute strength that Lord Robert Baratheon possesses. Maybe Jon Umber can give him some competition but with the hammer of his, Robert is invincible to all except Dawn.” 

She didn’t like Rodrick’s words, but she agreed with it. Ned had written to her about Robert’s Warhammer, it was said to be extremely heavy. 

“My brother can beat all three of your brothers at once,” Ashara spoke after some time. 

“You don’t have to tell me that,” she replied with mock annoyance. “I consider Cregan my brother too.” 

“He can still beat all of them.” 

She thought about it. It would be close but Cregan as large as he is still an animal and animals can die. She had never seen Arthur fight against a real opponent, only against dummies and Rhaegar. However, Dawn wasn’t given to anyone, simply being its bearer meant that Arthur was better than most. Additionally, he was a Kingsguard and the King had no reasons to appoint a Dayne to the position apart from Arthur’s skill. 

“Here they come,” Ashara said as Rhaegar made way towards them with Arthur. 

“Lord Rodrick I thought you would participate in the tourney too,” Rhaegar said as he approached her. Rodrick was a bit taken back by the presence of the Prince. 

“We Northmen are a bit shy of tourneys, my Prince,” Rodrick said politely and moved a bit back. He was the second son of a minor house, a fly against the Crown Prince. 

Rhaegar came and sat beside her. He didn’t smell the best but neither did anyone after basking in full armour in this heat. She couldn’t figure out what he was doing here with her. They had decided to keep their betrothal a secret.. 

“Lyanna, who are you betting on?” Rhaegar asked wrapping his arm around her back. She liked it, but the setting was too public. 

She could feel Rodrick tense at the distance between Rhaegar and her. Rodrick assumed that the Prince was forcing himself on her. She didn’t want him to take it that way, so she leaned into Rhaegar a bit just to make Rodrick at ease. 

“Arthur,” she replied, and instantly heard a laugh from Arthur.

“Why not me?” Rhaegar asked in genuine shock. 

“You aren’t good enough yet,” she said. “Arthur is better, and I do not want to lose the little coin that I brought with me.” 

“Lord Rodrick, who would you bet on?” Rhaegar asked. 

“I do not bet but if I was supposed to it would be Ser Arthur, your grace,” Rodrick said.

“Well, I will prove every one of you wrong,” Rhaegar boasted but no one took the words to heart. 

“Where is Benjen?” She asked no one in general. 

“He is with Ser Barristan who is teaching him some moves,” Arthur said. “He is better than I expected, but he has been taught wrong. He is trained for leather armour but if he is to be Kingsguard he has to master steel armour,” Arthur said. 

“Leather armour keeps you warm in the winter and improves agility,” she protested. 

“Aye, it does, to some extent. A well-crafted suit of steel armour will provide most of what leather can provide. Keep in mind most of the combat you experience as a Kingsguard is not on foot, it is on horses when the arrows are raining down on you. Then there is the fact that agility will be lost with age. A Kingsguard serves for life, we cannot have that,” Arthur explained. 

She had bought some armour for Benjen as a see off gift. Now it seemed to go to waste. “Rhaegar, is there any decent armourer around here?” She asked. 

“A good man once told me that, tourneys are known for two things, cheap wine and overpriced armour. There are many armourers here, but I already have a suit, thanks for the gesture.” 

She elbowed him as she would have elbowed Benjen. Her face immediately paled once she realized that she had hit the Crown Prince, but Rhaegar thought nothing of it. 

“I can take you there once the evening falls and they open their shops to repair the damaged armour sets.” 

That was very kind of him. “I would like that.” She said and Rhaegar nodded. 

They stayed there for some time before Rhaegar and Arthur parted ways and she left Ashara at her tent. 

“Rodrick not a word to anybody,” she said. 

“My Lady, Lord Stark has asked me to report on such things. I cannot hide it,” Rodrick said. 

“It is the Prince who is on the other side and he does not want you to divulge either,” she said. “Even Lord Stark swears fealty to the Targaryens.”

Rodrick nodded after some time. “I am not the best judge of character, but the Prince seems rather decent,” Rodrick said after a while. 

“He is,” she said as she went to dress up. Rhaegar had asked her to dress in relatively cheap clothes which she had done. He wanted them to travel as some minor house from the Crownlands instead of two of the most powerful houses in the Realm. 

Rhaegar arrived shortly after, his hair dyed black and his dress choice making him look worlds apart from the Prince he was. 

“Are you ready, Lady Greyfire?” Rhaegar asked her. 

She laughed, “That was the best you could come up with?” 

“Lady Wolfwing, Greenfire?” Rhaegar said. 

“What about Snowfire?” 

“Very well, Snowfire it is,” Rhaegar said as he gave her his arm. Arthur was beside them too, without Dawn but with one of his other swords. 

“Why the secrecy?” She asked. 

“If there is one thing I have learned, it is to be secretive when you can. It will save your skin some day,” Rhaegar commented. “Additionally, I like some change from the flattery that I get from all sorts of people.” 

They walked slowly through the dimly lit market that had been set. It looked beautiful, she had never seen a night market before. The gems at sale shimmered with the fires that lit the area. They were cheap gems, maybe there was a pearl in there somewhere but right now they looked more beautiful than even the priciest of diamonds. 

“You should buy one, milady,” the shopkeeper asked her. She looked over the man who was keeping the shop, he looked like a child of Stormlands, blue eyes, and the dark hair. 

Rhaegar stopped beside her to let her decide. “I am afraid, I do not have the coin for them,” she said in response. “Although they are quite tempting.” 

The man nodded before seating in his place and she carried on. There was a man standing on a curb shouting some words as a small group listened to him. 

“Heretics,” she said with a fair bit of anger, but they moved on until they reached the square of shops that the blacksmiths and armourers had set up. Without knowing which one to prefer, they went to the closest one to them. 

Armour laid splattered all over a table and on the many dummies standing behind the man. The armourer paid them no attention, he was busy dealing with a rather loud guest and perhaps because the other guest happened to be a larger lord. 

She had never purchased armour before so Rhaegar was her benchmark. He knew little about armour too, he was the crown prince, his armour was made by many others. It was Arthur who looked at various set pieces. He tested the tip of his sword against some of them and the pommel against the others. 

“The secret is in the sound,” Arthur said to her. “This one will work well.” 

She nodded with it and Arthur collected the remaining pieces and they stood in line. 

“I have never stood in a line before,” she said to Rhaegar. She hadn’t even visited a shop before, merchants came to the castle for her to select the things.

“My first time was a bit uncanny too,” he said as his eyes grazed the rest of the sets, looking for something intriguing. The Prince was always in the hunt, whether be a better armour, a better wife or a better friend.

Luckily their turn didn’t take long, and she specified the paint and the sigil. It was to be a black direwolf on a field of polished grey metal. 

“Milord, it will take time to polish according to specifications, especially with the orders I have. At least till the second day of the tourney.” 

She was fine with it. Benjen would be getting this armour on the last day and the second day was much before it. 

She saw some great buzz coming from a tavern nearby. She had always wanted to experience life that way. If her father ever saw her in a tavern, he would disinherit her right at the spot. 

Rhaegar must have sensed her excitement as he sent Arthur to take a quick look at it. Arthur came back not a while later and shook his head. “It is too poor for our tastes, I heard there is a better one on the other side of the grounds,” Arthur said. 

They decided against going there today and would maybe try again some other day. After a quick ten-minute walk, she was in Rhaegar’s tent with Oswell guarding the doors. 

Rhaegar went behind the screens to change his clothes and then sat on the bed while stretching his legs. He had practiced quite a fair bit today.

She pulled her chair beside the bed and started talking to him, something that she really liked. It was an interesting relation she had with the man. It had started in Winterfell, but it had truly grown here. The walls between them were lowered significantly down. 

He was perfect for her, perhaps too good to be true. There was nothing that Rhaegar Targaryen couldn’t do. Yet, she had seen him from afar. He acted like a man three times his age. Being the King was not an easy task. Some like Rhaegar took the responsibility seriously while others turned mad, seduced by the power. 

She was lost in his words, he was talking about the division of power in the Crownlands, an interesting subject, but now was not the correct time. Her eyes were barely staying open and with one last push, she stood from her chain and threw herself on the bed, over Rhaegar. 

Dread overcame her over thinking what she had done but Rhaegar only tugged the sheet over her. “You can remove your breeches and the shirt under the sheets, I won’t see.” 

She hazily nodded and threw her clothes back on the chair she was sitting before. She was just in her smallclothes. It was a mutual trust that had made her do this. She trusted him, perhaps with life and he trusted her with his. She knew about his dragons, he could have her assassinated, but he hadn’t. The same way she knew that he won’t force himself over her, not tonight, not ever. 

As sleep overcame her, the last thing she witnessed was Rhaegar’s hand slithering around her stomach before she was pulled closer to him.   
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Rhaegar

He woke comfortably the next morning. It occurred as a bit of a shock at first, but he soon realized that the warm presence beside him was Lyanna. Her body dug into his, a result of the grip his arm had on the lady’s bare waist. His face turned red with embarrassment as he noticed his hard cock digging into Lyanna. Albeit he was wearing nightclothes, he must have poked Lyanna a little. 

At that moment he felt something, something he couldn’t quantify. He felt an urge to pull Lyanna even closer to him. He knew it was improper, but he couldn’t control it. Her shoulders were showing skin as the sheets were right below them. With one motion he leaned a bit in and placed a quick kiss on them. 

Fear went ruled his mind as Lyanna turned, she was awake. However, she only giggled before placing a hand on his top cheek. 

“I never took you for a romantic,” Lyanna said warmly. “Although, I rather like the gestures.” 

He was embarrassed as Lyanna continued to caress his cheek. Due to the angle of the sheets, he could see Lyanna’s smallclothes covering her breasts and she didn’t make a motion to hide it. 

“If we are going to marry, we might as well love it,” Lyanna said as she slowly pulled the sheets a further below, exposing more of her chest. 

“And I took you for a conservative northerner,” he said and immediately felt a subtle slap from Lyanna’s hand. He didn’t mind it as his attention was at Lyanna’s stomach and waist. She was beautiful, the skin was smoother than even his although she had a small scar on one side of her stomach. 

He guided his hands there on the scar. “What was it?” he asked. 

“A bear, I moved just in time, but the nails dug into me,” Lyanna said. The little imperfection made her even more perfect. It reminded him that not only was Lyanna a noblewoman, but she was also the sort of woman to fight with bears and make it out alive. 

She slowly moved the sheets back up right under her shoulders and looked at his eyes with curiosity. 

“I never thought I would see a Targaryen in my entire life much less lie in bed with one.”

“We are a rare bunch,” he said. “My brother is just over a year old.” It was with sadness he said those lines. He and his brother were the only heirs of their legacy. All it would take is one servant with some poison and his house will be eradicated. The Targaryens had married into other houses, namely the Velaryons and the Baratheons, and their heirs could take the place of the king, but one look at Robert could tell anyone that he had no blood of the dragon in him. 

The sun was piercing the tent he had set up. It was again going to be a hot day today. He had a joust in the evening, against Jon Connington. Jon was an excellent fighter, but the Griffin’s jousting wasn’t up to par. He could win that one. 

Lyanna moved in and kissed the top of his cheek. “Good luck in the joust,” she said as she sat with her back against the head of the bed. 

“I need your favour for the joust,” he said as he rose too and sat beside her. 

“You aren’t riding to war, Rhae, you are fighting in a joust armoured to the teeth,” Lyanna said. “You will be fine.”

Rhae, no one had called him that since his mother used to call him by that name in his childhood. It felt good coming from Lyanna’s tongue however. 

“I still require it, Lya,” he said uttering the nickname that Benjen had given to Lyanna. If she was using her childhood name, he was too. 

Lyanna shook her head before removing the ring she was wearing and passing it to him. “It has been in house Stark for centuries, passed down from mother to daughter, only to give back to the house before she was wed. I want it back.” 

He nodded. Lyanna wore the ring on her middle finger but it fit his little finger pretty well. It was Valyrian Steel and looked pretty much like the Targaryen jewelry he had in Dragonstone’s vaults. 

“Arthur!” Lyanna called after covering herself with the bed sheet. 

Surprisingly Arthur came, he hadn’t expected him to respond to Lyanna’s shouts but here he was. 

“Can you please ask the servants to bring my clothes from my tent and draw a bath here?” Lyanna asked politely. 

Arthur didn’t even look at him for confirmation. He just nodded and went out following the orders of a Stark lady. 

“It seems he is desperate to form a good impression on the future Queen,” he stated. 

“Or maybe he is doing it because he considers me a good friend,” Lyanna protested. 

He placed his head in Lyanna’s lap. He couldn’t see her face, it was blocked by her breasts. The servant girls soon entered the tent and started filling the tub behind the screens. At least they didn’t have to heat the water. He loved hot water, especially boiling, when he literally had a fire burning under his tub. It rejuvenated him to no end but even he couldn’t deny the satisfaction he would gain from a cold-water bath in this heat. 

“Stop petting me like I am your dog,” he said in mock annoyance of Lyanna running her hands through her hair. 

“My direwolf,” she corrected him. “Now, unlike you, I have things to do here,” Lyanna said while sliding under his head and heading to take the bath. 

He asked one of the servants to lay the dining table in his room for two. It was tempting to peek over the screens, but he didn’t. Lyanna unlike southern ladies didn’t take long and was with him in a short while. The poor servants had to fill the bathtub again for him after emptying it. Luckily this time he could get some guards to help them as Lyanna was clothed appropriately. 

There were some sausages and eggs in the breakfast with some fruits. Lyanna focused on the fruits. She had never tasted half of them in her life before. “I will take you to Essos once we are married,” he said. “The oranges there are one of a kind.” 

“You have been to Essos?” Lyanna asked him in shock. 

“Just the north-western part,” he said. “I wanted to circle the world but Vhagar wasn’t old enough to handle extended travel.” 

Lya smiled at the gesture. He could picture them flying atop the clouds on the back of Vhagar. It could be their little getaway from the Westerosi drama. 

“My Prince, the bath is ready,” Bella said to him. He nodded and finished his food before saying goodbye to Lyanna. 

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Lyanna

She went with Ned to the official opening feast of the tourney. She had never seen a worse run event before. More people than expected had shown up, so the tourney had already started earlier today but Robert was now giving the speech about his father, and was yet to declare the tourney’s start. 

Fortunately, Robert was not a man of many words. He stopped quickly, and she could finally stop pretending that she was listening to what he was saying. 

She sat there with her brothers as they watched the people mingle. Their house had always kept to their own affairs and pretty much the only influence they had was in the Vale and the Riverlands. This was the Stormlands, although the Starks had married many times with the Durrandon’s, a marriage between Stark and Baratheon was yet to occur. 

She saw Robert Baratheon coming towards her. She had been able to avoid him yesterday, but it seemed to not be the case today. She knew that Robert was interested in her and she wanted to crush his interests before they could brew. 

“Lady Lyanna, can I have a dance?” Robert asked. 

No.

“Sure, Lord Baratheon,” she said, offering Robert her hand. 

She was a tall woman, but Robert was a giant. She had only met two people who were larger than Robert; Jon Umber and Wylis. This combined with the sea blue eyes of Robert and the black hair, made her wonder how he could be related to Rhaegar. They were worlds apart in physical appearance and in mindsets. 

“My lady, you dance well for a northerner,” Robert said after a while. 

She took it as an insult. If Rhaegar or Arthur had said that, it would have been a compliment but from Robert’s mouth, it was an insult and a large one at that. 

“What is that supposed to mean, Lord Robert?” She asked in a bit of anger. 

“I meant no offence. It is just that Ned isn’t the best of dancers,” Robert said apologetically. 

“He knows how to, he just doesn’t want to,” she replied as she maintained her distance from Robert. 

Robert nodded. “I looked for you yesterday, I couldn’t find you.”

“I went back soon. I wanted to meet you, but you were busy with some other things,” she lied. 

“You should have come for me, I will always have time for you,” Robert said, and the tone insinuated many things more than just talking. 

“Lord Robert, the things that you were busy with seemed a bit below my dignity,” she said bluntly. 

Robert didn’t take any offence. “I am sorry for that. I think I was a bit too deep in my cups,” Robert said. 

You think?

“It is a bad habit,” she said. “Good people have died from excessive drinking.” 

“My father didn’t drink as much. Yet he died early too,” Robert said. “If I am here, I might as well enjoy it.” 

Enjoy it yourself, don’t drag me into it. 

“So, Lord Robert have you considered a bride yet?” 

She wanted to make sure that he knew that she is unavailable. 

“Not yet. But you seem a pretty choice.”

“I am afraid, I love another, Lord Robert. However, if I didn’t, you would make a good suitor” she stated diplomatically. 

Anger flashed over Robert’s face and then understanding. “Who is he?” Robert asked. 

“You will know later,” she said. “For now, he is a secret.”

“Tell me who it is, and I will fight for you,” Robert said. She didn’t know if it was a jape or if Robert was serious. 

“I am not a prize to be fought over, Lord Robert,” she said. 

“No, you are not,” Robert said firmly. “But is it Jon?” 

“I will not comment on that,” she replied. “I am eligible to have some secrets.” 

“That is fair,” Robert said defeatedly. “But if it isn’t you then, I will probably marry some girl from the Stormlands or the Reach. I honestly thought that we both could find love.” 

“I am afraid life doesn’t work out the way you think it does,” she said as she started putting some distance between her and Robert. 

“That is true,” Robert said as he released her, and she returned to her seat. 

People called on Rhaegar to sing a song, but he declined. He said he didn’t have his harp on him, which she knew was a lie as Rhaegar had shown it to her the day before. There wasn’t much to do, apart from talking with Ned. At least until Rhaegar came to take her for a dance. 

“I am not one for dancing,” she said as Rhaegar started moving her. 

“Yet, you liked it yesterday.”

“Yesterday was an exception,” she said. 

“I saw you dancing with Robert earlier too,” Rhaegar said with jealousy evident over his face. “What were you talking about?”

“My words are my own. But if you want to be possessive over me, then I get to ask you what you were talking with Cersei,” she said. 

“I am not possessive,” Rhaegar said immediately. 

“Look at your face when you say that,” She replied. “You are very possessive. And truth be told, I am too. I will be your wolf, if only you will be my dragon.”

Rhaegar smiled and his gaze soon pierced her eyes. It looked so much like Winter or Meraxes as he liked to call her looked at her. The entire eyes told a different story now, that he wanted to devour her. She looked back with eyes of Cregan too, bold and firm even in front of a dragon. 

“I told him that I already have a lover,” she said breaking the stare. 

“Oh, is that so?” Rhaegar teased knowing perfectly well that there was no one. “Who is that lucky man?” 

“Jon Connington,” she continued. 

“A Griffin is no match for a dragon,” Rhaegar teased again. 

Funnily enough, when Robert had said similar words she had been offended, but she loved it when Rhaegar said it. 

She moved with the music and so did Rhaegar. He was an excellent dancer, there was no doubt about that. She was below par. The only reason she learned it was because it was necessary for events like these. She wondered, who she truly was deep inside.

As much as she would like it, she wasn’t a warrior. She wouldn’t go fight in battles, but she wanted to learn it. No doubt it was a result of being the only woman in their house. Brandon had wanted to practice with his wooden sword in the evenings and he could only find her. That is how it had started, she had become good with it, very good almost at par with Brandon. Until they switched to steel blades. They were far heavier, and she had started to fall behind. Sure, she could develop muscles like Brandon, but she didn’t want that. The sad thing was that no one wants to marry a brute. She had taken solely after the bow after that. 

She wasn’t also a good ruler. Every person that came in when she was holding court left happier than they had arrived. This meant that the Northerners loved her but also that she got a glare every time her father looked at the record books. She couldn’t make a hard decision, she was too generous. Additionally, she had learned from Ashara some of the important political events that had occurred in the South. She could never do something like Tywin did with the Reynes. 

She would also not be a good wife. She would bear children happily and raise them too, that is what she loved about her childhood. But she also loved riding and archery. Things that no southern lord and some Northern lords couldn’t agree to. 

Soon the music ended and so did their silent dance. Rhaegar gestured to her and she understood what he meant. Ned wasn’t happy when she bid goodbye to her but her little brother was loyal to her, all he asked was for Rodrick to accompany her which she agreed to. It was going to be a long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait!  
> I was on such a good writing spree when I started this story. I thought I could maintain it, but university hasn't let me. My exams are over now, so I can push out chapters faster. 
> 
> There are a few problems that I am having with the plot as of now. I am therefore writing four chapters ahead so that I am able to change some aspects before they are published here. As I said magic will play a large role in this story, but I will try to keep it grounded to things permitted in canon. It also won't be sunshine and roses, however the sun will shine for quite some time. Some of you have asked for a Jon Snow era story following this, I can certainly make that happen but not before this is finished as I do not have an ending in mind. 
> 
> It says heavy AU in the description and it is coming. The story will keep on diverging from the canon story line. But I am trying to keep it grounded with minimal OC's and something which is rational. 
> 
> There was also an interest in one of my Essos centric stories and I will make that happen soon.   
> Again thanks for waiting!


	6. Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old friendships are lost and new ones are made.

Ned

Robert had dragged him to the weirwood tree in the castle. Fortunately, it was the middle of the night and no one had seen him. He was angry at Robert’s behaviour but one look at Robert told him that Robert was furious. What had happened?

Robert was a huge man far larger than her and he couldn’t deny that he felt a bit terrified of him. “Who is he?” Robert shouted and grabbed his neck. 

“What are you talking about?” he asked as he brought his hands to release Robert’s grip on his neck. He could see Elbert tensing, both of them knew that Robert was a bit volatile, but he might take it too far today. Elbert won’t intervene. The young falcon wasn’t as close to Robert as Ned and him intervening might have political ramifications. 

“Your sister, who is she seeing?” Robert shouted again with full force. It made his ears hurt, the loud noise against the peaceful surroundings. 

Now it all made sense. He knew Robert’s infatuation with his sister well. Lyanna might have spoken something to him in the feast. He knew that Lyanna was spending time with someone. Ashara had told him that during the feast. He also knew that the person she was seeing was close to the Crown Prince. His guess was on Ser Arthur, but he was never really sure. Lyanna might be seeking Jon Connington for all he knew.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Release me!” Last words barely came out, Robert was putting way too much pressure on his neck. 

“I can’t breathe!” He was able to say in a groan. Robert hadn’t even listened to him. He had never seen this Robert before, Robert was truly mad. “Robert!!” he shouted once more but to no avail. 

Robert’s grip was broken by Elbert who had slammed the pommel of his sword on Robert’s shoulder. 

“You stay out of this,” the Lord of the Stormlands roared. 

“Control yourself,” Elbert replied. Elbert was older than him and the same age as Robert. He was also a talented knight. Not as good of a fighter as Robert but not much worse and right now he was his only hope.

His hands travelled to his neck and he took in deep breaths. “Are you fucking mad?” he shouted now. “You almost killed me.” 

His anger certainly surprised Robert. “I didn’t mean to,” Robert said, coming into his senses. 

“You never mean to,” he said sarcastically. “You didn’t mean to when you whored freely in the Vale. You never meant to when you whored here last night. It is no wonder that my sister left you,” he said. 

Anger was back on Robert’s face but this time he was ready. He dodged Robert’s attack before the punch could land on his face. “I pray to the gods that no woman is unfortunate enough to be your wife,” he said still having troubles breathing. 

“Get out of my castle!” Robert roared. 

“Fine, I am going. I would prefer to live with my sister in the tents than in a castle with you,” he said still furious. “I considered you my brother and if it wasn’t for Elbert, you would have killed me today.” 

“I wish I did,” Robert said still mad. “Go back to your whore sister and pray that you never face me in battle.”

This was it. He might have given Robert a chance till now but not now. “Call my sister that once again and I will show you what a wolf does to a stag,” he said in no uncertain terms. 

“How were we so wrong?” He asked Elbert, distraught about his experience. 

“He has drunk far too much today, Ned,” Elbert said. 

“And he will drink again,” he said. “I have begged him to stop and he never listens. I trusted him as my brother, yet he treats me like his worst enemy.” He had weathered enough. This was the breaking point, sure Robert had drunk today but he would never stop it. Robert almost killed him today, next time he might just do so. 

The walk to Ben’s tent had been silent. Neither Elbert nor he said anything. It was also getting cold, winter wasn’t far off. The moonlight shining off the grass calmed him a fair but he knew what he needed, family. 

Rodrick’s face was barely visible under the dim torches that lit the Crown Prince’s chambers but he was able to make it out. Besides Rodrik was one of the Kingsguards but due to the helm, he wasn’t able to distinguish whom. 

“Lord Eddard, I didn’t expect you here at this hour,” Rodrick said after coming running towards him. 

“I am moving out from the castle with Elbert, Rodrick. I thought we could stay in Ben’s tents today if he moves in with Lyanna,” he said. “Although I wonder why you are guarding the Crown Prince’s tent.” 

“My lord, you asked me to go with Lady Lyanna. She is inside so I am here.” 

That was interesting. So, the Crown Prince had full knowledge of Lyanna’s affair. “Inside with whom?” he asked. 

Rodrick had immediately recognised his blunder. The Cassel had thought that Ned knew about Lyanna. 

“My lord, I am not at liberty to say,” Rodrick said. 

“I might be younger than Lyanna, but I am the second in line to Winterfell, Rodrick. Your loyalty lies to me more than it lies to Lyanna,” he hated to say this and betray Lyanna’s trust, but he needed to know. “All I need to ask is who is Lyanna’s lover. Just the name.” 

“The Crown Prince,” Rodrick let out. 

The Crown Prince? He had never thought that Lyanna would find a better prospect than Robert but Rhaegar Targaryen was one of them. Benjen had talked about Rhaegar as if the prince was a god. The people had talked similarly too, not one person hated Rhaegar, he was loved by everyone. He knew it was a good match. What worried him was that the prince might only be taking advantage of his sister. But then, his sister would know that too, she was smarter than him in these sorts of things. 

Rodrick went back to guarding Lyanna at his command, there wasn’t much left to say. “Rhaegar Targaryen is a good man,” Elbert said. “The coin landed on the right side at his birth.” 

“People said the same about Aerys too before his succession,” he said. “But yes, I will not force Lyanna to drop him. After what happened with Robert, I don’t know anything about anyone.” 

Benjen’s tent wasn’t far off. A quick walk and he was in his brother’s tent. H was surprised to hear were conversations coming off Ben’s rooms. Benjen was laughing loudly and the other voice was definitely a woman. Lyanna was at least of age, Benjen was just a child. 

He opened the flap of the tent, only to see Ser Arthur Dayne and his sister sitting together with Benjen. Ser Oswell Whent was also beside them albeit the Bat was asleep. 

He liked Ashara Dayne. He had talked a lot with her on the first day of the tourney and earlier tonight at the feast. She had come asking him about Lyanna but then had never left his table. The Daynes weren’t well liked in the Stormlands, none of the Dornish were. She thought it was better to stick with the Starks. 

“Ned, you have wielded Ice many times. Would you say that Dawn is lighter?” Ben asked him excitedly. 

“I haven’t lifted Dawn, Ben,” he said eyeing the Dayne greatsword. 

Arthur in a smooth motion passed the white sword to him. The moment he grasped it, he felt the power emanating from the sword. It gave him confidence, this was the sword wielded by the greatest swordsmen of their time. Every child knew of its existence. 

But it didn’t belong to him, so he passed it back soon after. “I cannot tell,” he said. “They are extremely close. They cannot be compared. Dawn is a sword that is forged in Westeros millenniums ago, Ice is just a substitute greatsword bought from Valyria. Ice’s power lies in its name, Dawn’s in its legacy.” 

“Wisely said,” Arthur said to him. “There are some texts in Starfall that describe the original Ice, the clear sword.” 

There were some in Winterfell too. There were three known swords of the Starks. The first one was said to be as clear as glass. The second one was just a replacement for the original one and the third one was bought from Valyria. 

“Anyways, what brings you here?” Ben asked him and gestured Ned to sit on the bed beside him. Elbert had taken the only other chair. 

He continued to explain his entire situation to the group present there but didn’t elaborate on his confrontation with Robert. 

“You can sleep here with Elbert,” Ben said. “I will go to Lya’s rooms.” 

That was what he had expected. But for the time being, he sat down on the bed and continued the talks. 

The two Kingsguards were the first ones to leave. He would never leave Lyanna with three other men in the room, but Arthur didn’t mind with his sister. Everyone knew what would happen if someone even laid a finger on her. Trial by Combat was an asset when the Sword of the Morning was your brother. 

Soon Benjen left too, and he was praying that Ashara left before it got awkward. But he liked talking with her. “It seems your friend wants to sleep, let us go outside,” Ashara said. He looked at Elbert. He was truly asleep on the chair. Elbert was tired from participating in the tourney, Ned was the only one who hadn’t. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t” he protested. 

“Just stop, Ned,” Ashara said. “Live a little and it isn’t like we are doing anything wrong.” 

He was prepared for this. Being with Ashara made him happy unlike nowadays with Robert. He relented and went out of his tent with Ashara. 

Rodrick was still standing guard outside Rhaegar’s door. “Is Lyanna coming back to her rooms tonight?” he asked Ashara. He knew that if Rodrick knew of Ashara and Rhaegar’s relationship, Ashara knew it too. 

“I doubt it,” Ashara said. “They both are deeply in love with each other. They do not know it yet, but I can see it clearly on Rhaegar’s face. I have never seen him this happy.” 

“And how do you know when someone is in love?” He asked.

“You just know, you can see on their faces,” Ashara said. “Let us await the sunrise. I heard it is especially good here.” 

“At this hour?” he asked.

Ashara laughed. “It is four past midnight, Ned. The sun rises in three more hours, you do not fight in the Tourney anyway. We can go up the hill.” 

He nodded. He was surprised that Ashara had no time climbing it. The hill wasn’t too steep but for a lady to climb it was a feat. Even the ladies in Vale weren’t this adept. “I am a Dayne, Ned. Climbing hills and trekking through the lands is necessary for survival.” 

“In the North too,” he said. “Lyanna is very good at it.” That brought him back, perhaps the reason he liked Ashara so much was because she was like Lyanna. Lyanna in his opinion was the perfect wife, headstrong, bold, courageous yet beautiful. He had met ladies from Dorne, ones which did nothing except to fight, drink and fuck. Ashara wasn’t like them, she was like him just a lot less shy. 

They sat on the green grass as they looked over the sea. The sky had just started turning a bit brighter. It would be a while till the first rays of dawn hit them. “So, tell me, Ned. Have you found a woman for yourself?” Ashara asked.

He shook his head. “I am a second son, Ash. No one in the south wants the second son of the Starks. I will probably inherit a small castle in the far north, barely enough to please a northern lady. A southerner can never get used to it.” 

“Have you thought of it the other way?” Ashara said. “You are moving south with your wife.” 

He hadn’t thought about it much but did now. He liked the North but Ashara was right, he would rather prefer the pleasantness of the south compared to the brutality of the North. There was a reason that there weren’t many Stark cousin branches. All of them died during the winters. 

“I do not know,” he said. “The pack survives, Ashara. If I am separated from my family, I won’t last long. I know this, Robert almost killed me tonight. Benjen and Lyanna have their pack, they are inseparable. If what you say about Rhaegar is true, then Benjen will be a Kingsguard to Lyanna. Brandon will be with my father, and I will be left alone.” 

Ashara put an arm across his shoulders and he leaned into her. It was quite the opposite of what was traditionally viewed, but he was vulnerable today. He had lost his best friend, and he wanted to gain a new one. 

Neither of them said anything as they watched the sky turn a lighter shade of blue. It was a new dawn that rose on him now. The past was done, Robert was gone. There was no point in getting him to listen, Robert never did and never will. 

Ashara ran her fingers through his hair. “I like you and I think you like me. Our relationship can be quite beneficial to each other,” Ashara said to her. 

“How is that?” he asked a bit flustered. 

“You are well liked in the Vale. Rhaegar needs it in the case a war comes. We cannot trust Robert, the Tyrells or the Westerlands. Vale is close to the Crownlands; its support will be crucial.”

“Jon Arryn would never break fealty with the king,” he said. Jon was like a father to him and the epitome of honor. 

“I fear the Mad King will do something that might make him do such. All of the Vale lords need to know that Rhaegar is a man they can get behind. You secure us the Vale, and I will appoint you at a high position in King’s Landing.” 

“Was this all a ploy?” he asked. He felt betrayed, all Ashara wanted was power and influence. 

“Ned, we barely know each other for two days. I know that you like me, and I like you too, but give it time. Write to me once you are in the Vale, and I will write back to you. My appearance has sent many men mad, but I cannot marry them all. But know this, I care naught for your stature or for your looks. I care for what is in there,” Ashara said as she poked just outside his heart. “I never intended to marry an heir, I am not one to stay in castles and handle the household.” 

The words took a while to settle in. He hadn’t expected love either but the fact that Ashara was open to marrying him gave him a lot of confidence. This was the best match he was going to secure, and he will take it granted they both like each other. 

Ashara moved back and lied on the slightly dewy grass and he moved with her. It had been a long night, it was time to sleep. 

 

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Rhaegar

He had charged at Arthur eight times and all eight of them had resulted in both of them coming out seated on their horses. He had done his part. People had been thoroughly impressed by his skill and that was his primary goal. All he was fighting now was for the title of the champion. The tourney wasn’t held for a joyous occasion so there was no crown of roses for him to give Lyanna. 

It was windy today, very windy and from what he had heard, a storm was brewing. Robert had asked for all the lord and ladies present to pack their things in advance and leave at the earliest tomorrow, in turn sacrificing the closing feast tonight. 

This was the final tilt, if he didn’t unhorse Arthur, the match would be declared a tie. His legs were all sore from hugging the horse tightly and so were his arms from grappling the lance. His eyes hovered over Lyanna before glancing over to Robert who would give the signal. 

Everyone had known that there was something wrong with Robert. Most people associated it with the grief of his parent’s death, but he knew the inside story. Robert had been angry after getting rebuked by Lyanna. The chain of events had then led to both Ned and Elbert Arryn staying outside on the grounds. It was a massive oversight. Cersei Lannister had cozied up to Robert the very next day and there was talk about Robert even taking her maidenhead. But those were probably rumors, no way did Cersei Lannister still have her maidenhood.

Even now the blonde-haired lady was sitting beside Robert as if she was already Lady Baratheon. Lyanna had only met Robert once after her initial talk and Robert had specifically called on Cersei to show Lyanna what she had missed. Lyanna being herself had congratulated Robert on finding love and let it go. His direwolf had an interesting temper, for most things she was the kindest woman in the world. However, if someone crossed a line, she was quite the opposite. Like him, and like he wanted his Queen to be. 

He looked over Robert’s sore hand. The rumors said that the Stag had punched a wall so hard that bones in Robert’s hand had broken. It was from that hand itself that Robert dropped the cloth signalling the beginning to the round. 

Unfortunately for him, the wind had knocked up a cloud of dirt right in his path. He could do nothing but pray, pray that Arthur doesn’t miss his chest plate. Arthur being himself, landed the lance perfectly and he went flying out of his horse and the air filled with cheers and nays. People who lost the bets were calling for a rematch while the winners were cheering Arthur on loudly. 

He had lost fairly, Arthur hadn’t cheated so there was no point in going again. After Ser Barristan brought some water for him to clear his eyes, he looked over Lyanna hoping to see some concern for him but there was none in her eyes only fury. He had coerced her into changing her bet in favour of him and she had lost it all. She had a right to be mad. 

The moment his jousting armour fell on the ground in his room he rushed over to Lyanna’s tent. “I am sorry,” he said as he entered. He truly was, it wasn’t often that someone did something for him not out of flattery but out of love and it had resulted in significant harm to her. The Stark’s among the richest houses of Westeros. However, they distributed it among the poor come winter. The coin that Lyanna had brought with her was her entire allowance for the winter. She hadn’t lost it all betting, but this was probably all of the coin that she could use for her entertainment purposes. 

“I could have defeated Arthur today!” Lyanna shouted. “Now Ashara won’t shut up about it for weeks! And that is in addition to the coin I lost. I don’t know where my wit was when I listened to you!” 

“I will make it up to you, I promise,” he said. 

“You better, otherwise I am never listening to you again. I knew that Arthur would win and you… agghhh,” she said with frustration. 

Lyanna was highly competitive. She wasn’t seriously angry at him, but she was angry. “Robert has cancelled the feast so that everyone can go back safely,” he said. “And I will return you the coin.”

“I know that is why I am having my things moved in the damned castle.” 

“We aren’t staying,” he said. “I have asked Jon, he said that the storm is a fair bit away. If we start right now and march straight inland, we can make it.”

“Towards Fellwood?” Lyanna asked curiously. 

“Grandview,” he corrected. 

“Why Grandview? It is out of our way.”

“The King has decided to move on the Kingswood Brotherhood. Arthur is going there with the men who came with you. In that circumstance, the bandits will do anything to take me hostage. We cannot take the risk.” 

“So, after Grandview, we are going to Summerhall?” Lyanna asked. 

“Yes, Summerhall, Grassy Vale and then King’s Landing. It won’t be long, we area small group, some guards and us. We can cover the journey in ten days, around what would have taken you to go to King’s Landing with the larger group,” he replied. 

The reality hit him hard. They only had ten days together and then years of separation. If he wanted, he could marry Lyanna today and the consequences won’t be too dire, but he didn’t want that. Things like marriage needed time and there was also the reason that he didn’t want Aerys anyway near Lyanna. 

A month ago, he had thought he would marry any highborn woman when it was politically advantageous, now he would marry only one girl even if it came to war. Love was the death of duty, he hadn’t understood those words even a week ago when he had met with Lyanna. But now it was budding, he liked Lyanna really liked her. He didn’t know what love was, he had written songs on it, but he didn’t know if what he and Lyanna had was love. 

He was about to move out when Ned Stark entered the tent. 

“Your grace,” Ned Stark let out in a bit of shock and surprise. 

There were two sides to spar. Cersei had coddled up to Robert but so had Ashara to Ned. He didn’t know if what Cersei had for Robert was genuine but Ashara truly liked Ned. This had meant that Ned had become close to him. 

“What is it, Ned?” Lyanna asked her brother. 

Ned Stark was uncomfortable uttering the words in his presence, so he decided it was time to leave. 

He shook Lyanna’s hand away. “I will meet you in a while,” he said while placing a kiss on Lyanna’s cheek. 

It was early in the evening when he got the message that the horses were ready. They were the only ones headed out, all other lords had decided to huddle inside the castle, a logical decision compared to his slightly dangerous one, but then he had dragons close by. 

Lyanna had already given Benjen his new armour set by the time he arrived to meet with them. This was also the time to part with Arthur, the Dayne had been a close friend, almost like a brother. Fighting the bandits would take years, it would be a long time when he sees Arthur again. 

He hugged Arthur tightly. “If I had an older brother, I would like him to be like you.” 

“And if I had a younger brother it would be you,” Arthur replied to his statement. 

“Send a raven each day regarding your position, Arthur,” Oswell said in his style of humor. “I would hate to compete with the gravediggers for Dawn.” There was a low chuckle from Arthur but not from anyone else. There was a chance that Arthur might not come back alive. The Kingswood Brotherhood was known for their strength and ambushes. 

“Arthur, take care of Benjen too,” he said although it wasn’t needed. Arthur would take care of Benjen anyway. “For my sake,” he added. He was marrying Lyanna, Benjen’s sister. If anything happened to Benjen it will cause her a lot of pain. 

“He will not leave our camps, Rhaegar. I promise you,” Arthur said before moving onto Ser Barristan.

Benjen came next. Ben had been a bit annoying in Winterfell but that was because Lya had tasked him with spying on him. “Benjen don’t do anything stupid,” he said bluntly but soft enough for only Benjen to hear it. “Your sister will be the Queen and she will need her brother there. You will be a great knight someday and remembered for centuries to come. Don’t throw it away for an hour of glory.” Benjen nodded firmly and he prayed that Benjen paid heed to his words. He was a good boy, Westeros was cruel to good men. 

The last person to meet him was Jaime Lannister. He was going with Arthur in order to show solidarity between the Hand and the King. The handshake between him and the Lannister heir was firm, but it lacked conviction from both parts. 

He held Lyanna’s hands as they both saw their brothers leave. There were hardly twenty people in the grounds now and all of them were his or Lyanna’s men. There was no threat of spies. “Are you ready?” he asked. 

Lyanna looked at him with watery eyes. “I am ready.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started it I was just shy of promising two updates per week. But life has just gotten harder after that. I will try my best to provide an update every week, but at this point I don't think I can make any promises. 
> 
> Anyways, let me know any parts you liked. Ned chapter wasn't supposed to be here but one of the comments mentioned it so I wrote it. 
> 
> As I said in the beginning that this story will have quite a large deal of magic, and the next chapter will start it. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	7. Summerhall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group reaches Summerhall.

Lyanna

The ruins of Summerhall told a tragic story. As a small group, they had been able to cover much more distance than she had when riding from King’s Landing to Storm’s End. There was only Rhaegar, Rodrick, Ashara, Barristan and Oswell with them. No guards, no servants, no one else. 

Ser Barristan Selmy had talked the most during the journey, sharing stories from his countless adventures. He didn’t speak much generally but she had requested him to. There were so many stories in his life that were worth sharing. He was an inspiration for not only Benjen but for most of the boys in Westeros. There were three people everyone knew, the king, the Queen, and Ser Barristan. Gerold Hightower was popular too but Duskendale had elevated the Bold. She could see why Barristan Selmy was the epitome of knighthood and chivalry. He was the first to wake up and the last to sleep and honorable to a fault. 

She had no troubles sleeping on this leg of the journey. The fact that Rhaegar’s tent was barely large to sleep them both, raced her heart as they slept close, very close to each other. She had never done something sexual with Rhaegar, but the hunger was rising. Especially when she woke up regularly with his cock poking her arse. 

The ride was uneventful otherwise, the thick storm that had been behind them had disintegrated a few days ago. They had kept to their own tents, Rhaegar preferred them instead of the rooms that the Lords might accommodate them in, probably because they could sleep together, away from the spies.

“That is Summerhall,” Rhaegar said as he gestured to the blackened ruins that stood among the clean grass fields. She was surprised to see that the Targaryens hadn’t tried to rebuild it. The Crown didn’t lack any coin, especially after the new taxes Tywin had imposed. It was when she saw Rhaegar crying that she realized the reason why there was no one to build the castle for. Viserys was just a babe and there was a high chance that he would marry outside the family to secure an alliance.

“You can set up camp here,” Rhaegar said to the Oswell. “I will show Lyanna and Ashara around.” The Kingsguards seemed to understand Rhaegar’s command and started unpacking their belongings. “Careful with your horses,” Rhaegar said. “They do not like the gardens of Summerhall.” 

It was true. She was on a borrowed horse from King’s Landing, a white Dornish steed that she had named Snow, like her northern horse. She always kept in mind to not get attached to a certain horse as different conditions required different types of horses. Only Snow at Winterfell could traverse in thick snow, and only this Snow could travel large distances in this heat. 

Her bond with Snow wasn’t as good as the one in Winterfell but it was there. That was why she was surprised to notice the difficulty she had having Snow move onto the palace gardens. It was as if some invisible layer was forcing the horse to not enter. Rhaegar and Ashara also on borrowed horses were having the same problems. 

“Magic is strong today,” Rhaegar said. “We will walk.” 

A year ago, she wouldn’t have believed in magic but after seeing a dragon, anything was possible. There were countless rumors about Summerhall, only the Targaryens and the Kingsguards knew the truth of the happenstance at Rhaegar’s birth. 

“Who takes care of the gardens?” she asked noticing that the grass was freshly cut. 

“A caretaker,” Rhaegar said without looking at her. “I cannot rebuild the castle yet, but I can at least maintain it. I come here once every two months,” Rhaegar added. “Mostly alone but sometimes with Arthur.”

Both she and Ashara were holding hands giving them some peace from the sensation that was taking over their hearts. It was telling them that they didn’t belong here. She had initially thought that they were just thoughts but Ashara felt it too. There was something happening here. Something that she couldn’t explain. 

“Don’t you feel it?” Ashara asked Rhaegar. 

“I do,” Rhaegar said as led them around the ruins. “But unlike what you and Lyanna feel, I am welcomed here. I was born here, Ash. This is my home.” 

Rhaegar knew each step well. “The entrance should be right here,” he said as they came across the corner and as he had predicted, in front of her was a doorway whose door no longer existed. “Arthur tells me that the feeling gets stronger inside the remains itself, but it doesn’t do anything. Just makes you feel unwelcome. Which you are not. I own these lands and I welcome you.” 

Rhaegar wasn’t wrong, her heart sank the moment they stepped over the door sill. 

“Look at the engravings,” Rhaegar said. Only he could think about looking at the walls while she and Ashara had troubles breathing. But she looked, nonetheless. Dragons were engraved on the white marble, there was hardly a layer of soot in sight. Rhaegar must have had the walls cleaned too. 

“I used to come here, looking for any hints about the prophecies. At first, I thought that the engravings might have some meaning, so I had them cleaned, but it wasn’t so.” 

She could see that the engravings described all of the major Targaryen victories, there was a large one showing King Aegon the Conqueror burning Harrenhall. As they moved in the engravings moved in time too. They passed the Field of Fire until finally, she came across Torrhen Stark bending the knee. 

There was a small sentence written under it in Valyrian. “What does it say?” she asked. 

Rhaegar didn’t even look before answering. “No man’s pride is worth a thousand lives.” He took a sigh. “Someone should tell Tywin that.” 

Soon they were at an opening. She surmised that this must be the hall where the actual deaths had occurred. It had suffered the most, the walls were all melted. It was no normal fire that had burnt here. This was also the point where the repulsion was the highest that she had experienced till yet. 

“This is what wildfire does,” Rhaegar said gesturing to the walls. 

She nodded and looked around. There were ten black eggs lying on the ground. “Are these dragon eggs?” she asked Rhaegar. 

“Aye, but no life remains in them. The fire burnt so hot that even the eggs perished. Ser Gerold says that the Wildfire went out of control, but I doubt it. A gathering with every Targaryen present, doing questionable things is a prime opportunity for a conspiracy. The answers to my questions burned here many years ago. All can do is tell you what I know.” 

Both she and Ashara found it hard to speak here so they just listened Rhaegar describe everything that had gone wrong here and his future plans to rebuild the palace. He showed them the window from where Ser Gerold Hightower had saved his mother. He lifted a fallen shelf which had somehow survived the fire, she couldn’t help but notice the look Rhaegar gave her. He didn’t want to alert Ashara, but it was clear to her that it was here that he had found the dragon eggs. Once they exited the ruins, he showed them the exact place where he was born. Sometimes he cried, sometimes he laughed, and she couldn’t help but notice that she had been repeating his emotions all the time too. Not because of any feeling that she felt due to magic, but because she was in pain when Rhaegar was in pain. She couldn’t be happy when her love was crying. 

They returned to the camp they had set on the border of the garden. The sun was down by this time and the Kingsguards with the help of Rodrick had gotten a fire going. Resting on the very bright fire was some chicken that they had bought from the village nearby. All of them sat on the grass beside the fire, like they had been doing for the past week. 

She was unnecessarily leaning on Rhaegar’s chest. She didn’t need the help, nor was she tired, she just wanted to warm her heart. Rhaegar didn’t wear his armour on this leg of the tourney and his clothes were so soft against her neck and face. She had seen Rodrick and Oswell laugh at her antics, but she couldn’t help her, it was new love. It wouldn’t last forever, she knew for sure, but she would enjoy every moment of it. 

“Ser Barristan, do you feel it too? The feeling inside the gardens?” she asked after some time. 

“Every time, your grace,” Ser Barristan replied saying the last words without a stutter. 

“She is with you for less than a month and she becomes ‘your grace’. I have been in King’ Landing for six years and I am still my lady?” Ashara jested. 

“My lady, I would like to have a good impression on the future Queen. My job depends on it,” Barristan said in the same humorous tone. 

She laughed with Rhaegar at the comments, but underneath she was a fair bit worried, managing Winterfell and managing the entire Realm were very different things. She also had a lot of weight upon he shoulders, the Starks were remembered more or less favourably in the south and she had to maintain that reputation. She was also an ambassador for northern people, they would be judged based on her deeds. 

“Barristan, she isn’t the Queen yet,” Oswell said. “You have to bend over backwards for her all your life anyway so enjoy these moments.” 

She rather liked that approach. She would much prefer the Kingsguards to be her friends rather than her servants. After all, a man like Gerold Hightower, if he wasn’t a Kingsguard was of a higher stature than her. 

Rodrick soon removed the chicken from the sticks and served it to them on some steel plates that they were carrying. She and Rhaegar shared a plate, it meant that it was less work for one of the Kingsguards later when they wash it in the stream. These were things that Rhaegar would never do in public, but she knew each of the people present here were loyal to them. She completely cleaned her piece to the bone unlike Rhaegar, who left some parts which might not be as savoury as the others. 

It was her way. She could never be the fancy Queen that the maidens here idolized, and she knew that. She had treated the dresses Ashara had bought her like their weight in gold, she couldn’t jump in a ditch wearing them. At the end of the day, this was what separated them from the commoners, if she wore and dressed like a commoner in King’s Landing no one would take her seriously. 

It wasn’t even about coin. Starks were richer than the Daynes, it was about priorities. To Ashara, expensive dresses were more important than good clothes for her subjects. It wasn’t wrong, no one died of hunger in Starfall, it was just different. Maybe it was because no one would die if they didn’t have good furs in Dorne, unlike North. All she could say was that it was different. 

It was when her plate was filled with the second serving that she recognised her thoughts. She was losing herself, there were no two ways about that. A year ago, she would have not thought about clothes at all. Whether expensive or cheap, clothes were clothes and they didn’t matter to her. Yet she was defending her dresses now, the mere act of not wanting to change was changing her. 

“I wonder what Cersei is doing with Robert,” Ashara broke the silence.

Cersei was with Robert? Of course, she realized. Jaime Lannister had gone late with Arthur, the Lannisters had stayed till then, making it too late for Cersei to depart Storm’s End. 

“Or more importantly, what Robert is doing with Cersei,” Oswell said. “I have never seen a worse lord than him. He would lead the Stormlands to ruin.” 

Rhaegar shook his head. “Oswell, you underestimate the power of idiotic bravery and generosity. The tourney prizes, especially one held after death were too high. Robert likes fighting and rewarding people for it. And Oswell, people do like rewards. He will lead the Stormlands into debt but by that time Robert would have left this world.” 

“Who would lend him the coin?” she asked wanting to know more about finances in the south. 

Rhaegar smiled. “As being the protectors of the Realm, it is the duty of House Targaryen to help a lord in need, at a suitable interest rate of course. But Robert won’t come to me. So, it will be the Lannisters. Which I don’t mind out of all the kingdoms, Stormlands is the one I am least worried about.” 

“Why?” She asked. It was close to King’s Landing and had a large fleet. 

“Connington hails from here. Summerhall is here. Even if Robert sides against me, half of the Stormlands would rise in my favour. Sure, Robert can attempt to put them down but by that time we can have the Crownland men here to help the lords.” 

Ser Barristan shook his head. “My Prince, you worry too much. No one would rebel against you.”

“Not me, Barristan, Aerys,” Rhaegar said. 

“The King is not in the best of health nowadays,” Barristan replied. “I do not wish him ill will, but I doubt he will live long.” 

“That is the sad thing about this world, evil men live longer than they should,” Rhaegar said. “Jon is right, I should take some Tears of Lys and end it. But that would just replace a madman with a kinslayer.”

Every one of them looked towards Ser Barristan. He was the one most loyal to Aerys out of them. And even he was silent. 

“I should have never saved him from Duskendale,” Barristan said defeated. “But it is that new spymaster who is driving his paranoia,” Barristan spoke. “He tells him of everything. The realm always plotted against the kings but most of the plots are never close to being implemented. But Varys tells Aerys of all of them. It will drive anyone mad to find out that a hundred people want to take your place.” 

“I will execute him the very day I become the King,” Rhaegar said and sensed her confusion. “He uses children without tongues for his deeds, slaves from Essos,” he explained to her. 

“That is cruel,” she said. 

“They say Bloodraven had a thousand eyes and one, but even he didn’t resort to these tactics,” Barristan said. 

“Magic,” Rhaegar corrected. “Bloodraven was gifted. He had visions, of the future, the present, and the past.” 

This was new to all of them. There were rumors but nothing was ever substantiated. Rhaegar was confirming it. “I hate Bloodraven for his deeds. He murdered an innocent man, kin of his after giving his word that he won’t. Aegon sent him to the Wall for that, but it did save the realm from another war. I won’t be able to make a decision like that even knowing that it is necessary” 

“How did Jaehaerys do it?” She asked. “How did he become a good king?”

“Dragons,” Rodrick replied joining the conversation. He only replied to her queries as he thought Rhaegar was too far above him. “Only a fool would rise against dragons. Mighty enough to force even a King of Winter to bend his knee. If someone is safe, they can focus on things other than war and the realm will prosper.” 

There was a ghost of a smile on Rhaegar’s face. “Times have changed, Rodrick,” Rhaegar said. “The kingdoms aren’t divided anymore, a fool might not rise against a dragon, but together even ants can bring down a mountain.” 

Why was he so pessimistic? “And together dragons can conquer the world,” she said. “You aren’t alone in this either. House Stark will fight for you even if my father doesn’t. All my brothers will fight for me and my father will be forced to join or lose his claim to Brandon.” 

“So will House Dayne,” Ashara said. “There aren’t many of us, but you will not find better-trained men anywhere in Westeros. There was a reason that we were able to burn Oldtown.” 

“To House Targaryen,” he said raising his cup and looked at her expectantly. She knew what was coming. They had been working up their relationship slowly. They had kissed each other but always on the cheek or the forehead. But this time the kiss wouldn’t be out of love but about power. Power that they shared together. 

She straightened her back and sat on Rhaegar’s lap facing him with her back towards Barristan. She was in her leather breeches, which hugged her curves tightly and she had no doubt that she would be looking rather provocative from behind. “To house Targaryen,” she said with a wink to Ashara and then planted her lips on Rhaegar claiming him as hers in front of the people. 

He tasted of dornish red and she wondered if she tasted any different. But there was something else too, a taste that she couldn’t taste on her lips but in her mind. She felt power surge through her, her confidence increased significantly. Rhaegar Targaryen was the most powerful single person in the entire world and he was hers. 

All the doubts in her faded away as her tongue danced with Rhaegar’s. The dresses didn’t matter, she would rule naked from the Iron Throne if she wanted to. She would talk as bluntly as she wanted to. She would ride as much as she wanted to. For a dragon, a dragon answered to no one. 

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Rickard

He was waiting in his solar for the arrival of his daughter. She had shamed him and his house. Luckily it was the Manderly heir who had seen her and not some other lord who would have spread the news all over the kingdoms. Wendel had seen Lyanna roaming in the market at Storm’s End with a man. had reported that he looked like a minor lord from the Crownlands but wasn’t able to confirm the identity of the said man. 

He knew love well. He had married for love, but these were tough times. If the man was Robert, he would have been fine. Hells even if it was a Tarly or a Darry, he would be fine. They weren’t as powerful as Robert but at least he wouldn’t be embarrassed. Through which face was he going to marry Lyanna to a minor lord from the fucking Crownlands?

His daughter entered the room giddy and she moved fast to hug him. He hugged back, as much as he didn’t like to have a favourite child, Lyanna would be the one if he had to pick. She was perfect in most respects just not at listening to him. “How was your trip?” he asked. He would give her time to explain, he owed it to his daughter. 

“It wasn’t bad. The tourney was nice although I wish it went longer than it did. There were some good riders there,” Lyanna said but it was clear to him that she was hiding something. Perhaps the man was one of the riders. 

He gestured her to stop or she would go on and on about things he didn’t care, “how was Robert?” 

“You want an honest opinion or a sugar-coated one?” Lyanna asked rather bluntly. 

“Honest one,” he said. As much as he liked a match between Lyanna and Robert he won’t have Lyanna marry a drunkard who would sire bastards later. It would be even more shameful than marrying her to a minor lord. Setting aside a wife was a major disrespect and as a northerner, all eyes would be on Lyanna. 

“He is strong, gallant and fearsome,” Lyanna said and he was a bit taken back by her pleasant words. “But that is all he is, he has no respect for any woman. He whores all around, he doesn’t even leave the servants during the feasts.” 

He nodded sadly. It was what Elbert had told Brandon. Ned pushed for a match between Lyanna and Robert, but Elbert had written to him that Robert was not the sort of a man he would want his daughter to marry. 

“But do not worry, you won’t have to refuse him, I already did,” Lyanna said proudly. 

“You did what?” he asked in shock. 

“I refused him, I told him that I had a lover and he should find someone else.” 

He felt rage build inside him. His hand almost rose until he calmed himself down. He could never strike Lyanna. Never. “What were you thinking while refusing a Lord like Robert?” he roared. “You should have come to me, and I would have stopped the betrothal from happening, there are procedures for these kinds of things.” Goodson or not, Robert could have been a good ally. He could have easily declined the betrothal citing some other reasons and kept his ties with the Stormlands. 

“There is no allying with Robert, father,” Lyanna said. “You cannot fight with a man who cares for nothing except fighting. He cares naught for his brothers. He cares naught for his house. He is a man who rules by his heart and, hearts, they can sway anywhere.” 

He moved and slumped back in his chair. He had worked so hard on that alliance. He wasn’t angry at Lyanna. He was angry at himself. He should have chased after Jaime Lannister instead of Robert. From what he heard, the Lannister heir was nothing like Tywin. What would Lyarra think if he married Lyanna to a man like Robert? He knew Steffon Baratheon well, he was a good and honorable man. What had happened in just a single generation? 

“Father, I have to tell you something more. But you must promise me that you will not share it with anyone and not for your own gain either. The future of the realm depends on it.” 

He nodded. 

“No father, I want you to swear it under the Heart Tree with blood,” Lyanna commanded. It was a strange feeling, but he felt compelled to say yes to her. There was something about her that screamed authority, something that hadn’t been there two months ago. 

He grabbed Ice and went out to the Godswood followed by Lyanna. 

With one light touch from Ice, he cut his palm and then pressed the bloodied hand into the tree. “Let the gods witness my vow. I swear to not tell of my next conversation with my daughter to anyone until she lifts the vow.” 

Lyanna nodded and he returned to his solar but then Lyanna asked him to take her into his bedroom which was protected by another wall. “Father, you told me that as long as a lord is of enough value, you will let me marry him?” Lyanna asked.

He nodded. “Yes, I did.” 

“I found him, father. I love him with more heart than I have. I cannot live without him. He loves me too. He is brave, gallant and intelligent. Certainly, pretty to look upon and more honorable than Brandon. He has no bastards and he has vowed to me to not sire any. He hasn’t even whored, not even once!” Lyanna said.

He wasn’t interested in a man’s sexual experiences, but it was good to know. “Which place is he a lord of?” He asked. 

“Dragonstone,” Lyanna replied confidently. 

A minor lord from Dragonstone? He had assumed a lord in King’s Landing, at least they had a large amount of coin for Lyanna to live comfortable on. But a minor lord from Dragonstone?

“Dragonstone?” he said. “Is this a joke? I said a great lord, not some minor lord of Dragonstone. What is he a lord of twenty men and a hundred cows? No, you will not marry him.” 

“More like the entire island and a hundred warships, not to mention a tenth of the Crownland mainland,” Lyanna said smirking. Like she had wanted him to utter his words. 

“How did you speak to your father like that?” he yelled until it hit him. A hundred warships and the entire Island? It was no minor lord, it was the Crown Prince. 

Lyanna was laughing at him now while he sat speechless and in complete and utter disbelief. She came to sit beside on the only other chair in his bedroom and held his hand. Sometimes she reminded him so much of her mother. “Father that isn’t all,” Lyanna said as she started speaking. 

It took her an hour until she was finished recapping the story till King’s Landing. This changed everything. The dragons were a shock that he hadn’t anticipated. He was in awe the entire time when Lyanna went and fetched the dragonbone bow that Rhaegar Targaryen had given her. He looked over the engraving once and he knew that Rhaegar Targaryen loved her. This was no ordinary bow, it was a relic of Targaryen history. It was like Brandon giving Ice to Catelyn Tully. 

“Father, will you support him?” Lyanna asked. 

“How can I not?” he asked back. “I will always support you, my pup. I am sorry I got angry, I already had a pact made for you,” he said. “You lost any claim to House Stark’s inheritance, but you could marry anyone you wanted.” 

Lyanna was surprised at that but he continued. “I am not stonehearted, Lya. I know love, Prince Daeron married his Jenny giving up his claim. Some things I cannot stop, but I agree that I would sleep far better knowing that you would reign as the Queen someday.” 

“Thank you, father,” Lyanna said. “This is a letter that Rhaegar wrote to you. He will come to visit us soon,” she said. “He said that I shouldn’t read it with you, so I will see you at the supper.” 

He watched Lyanna exit his rooms with confidence. Confidence that he had seen in very few women over the ages. She was changing, and he was happy with it. Wolves didn’t do well south of the Neck. He opened the seal and looked over the contents. 

__

_“Lord Rickard,_

_I hope this letter finds you in good health._

_There are no right words to say it, but I am in love with your daughter. There is nothing you can do against it, I will marry her with or without your permission. I write this letter not to ask for her hand but to extend you an offer of friendship, one favourable to us both._

_The situation is grim in the South, the King is mad. I do not exaggerate it, every story you heard about him is probably true. Under other circumstances, I might have plotted against him but not now. I cannot afford to lose Lyanna no matter what the reason is. The King leads a troubled life, a life from which he will find peace soon. However, until that happens, I can assure you that Lyanna won’t place a foot in King’s Landing or anywhere else where Aerys is present._

_I would also like to hold our marriage when spring begins. Preferably at Dragonstone, we have an old Heart’s tree here as well as a Sept. But most of all it is the only place that is more loyal to me than to the King. I will let you know the details as soon as I plan the marriage. There will be as short of a betrothal period as possible to prevent any mal intentions._

_The realm is on the brink of war. I know what you and Hoster Tully were plotting. Lyanna tells me that you did it to protect the North. That is a lie, you did it to further your ambitions. You lied to your daughter about it, lie to her once again and I will hold you accountable for treason. I suggest that you stop those plots as soon as possible. The new spymaster, Varys is very good. Once Aerys knows he will execute you, there is no doubt about that and even I cannot defend a traitor._

_Do not trust anyone except for your children. No maester, no Manderly, no Arryn or no Tully. Do not try to contact me directly, ask Lyanna and she will relay your words. In my mind, she is already my wife, I would have married her if I could. The next handful of years will be Lyanna’s last at Winterfell as a maiden. Please make them the best years of her life. If she desires anything, provide her with it. I like her the way she is, do not force her into a dull southerner, I want a Visenya, not an Elaena._

_Do not take things for granted. I love Lyanna and not you. If I smell treason coming from you in any way, I will not be lenient for you have already been given a second chance. My words are harsh, and they should be. I hope that we can become friends later in life, but I won’t mind at all if we lived as enemies._

_-Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen”_

He reread the letter two times again making sure that he missed nothing before tossing it in the fireplace and watching it burn till the end. The words were hard on him but that was to be expected. If it was Aerys who knew of his treachery, he would have been beheaded by now. It was like Brandon getting to know that Roose Bolton was conspiring against him. Brandon wouldn’t hesitate even once to storm his men to Dreadfort. 

Any ambition he had was dead. His daughter will be the Queen, that is more than what Hoster offered him. But that wasn’t all this letter meant, it was a way to mend things. Every Targaryen king after Lyanna would have Stark blood, something that will send a strong message through the Realm. It also increased the chances of a potential marriage of Brandon’s children or grandchildren to Targaryen princesses or princes. 

But for now, it was time to make new plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am left with a few things that I will appreciate any feedback on. 
> 
> 1\. I will finish it no matter what happens. Taking that into consideration, would you prefer chapters about the incoming war to be around 100k words describing many conflicts. Or should I shorten it out to be around 25k words and end it soon. 
> 
> 2\. I have two ways to progress Lyanna as I cannot give her an ice dragon as I intended originally. Either she rides Meraxes(Winter) or she gets greensight like Bloodraven (Before he was sent to the Wall). So not as OP as Bran but pretty powerful nonetheless. 
> 
> 3\. Do you want me to tackle any other unexplained artifacts/myths? Like original Ice, Vigilance or Dark Sister. I know quite a lot about things like these and can connect the dots pretty closely with canon and make some stuff up. Magic is profound in Westeros but many people(here on AO3 and in real world) do not like it and want the story to focus more on humans. 
> 
> A couple of notes: 
> 
> 1\. I published one of the Essosi stories and Elia got raped by Mountain in it as Rhaegar chose to save Rhaenys instead. People gave me a lot of salt for that, so I might decide to rewrite it as I removed it from this platform. 
> 
> 2\. Any other Lyanna/Rhaegar stories that you want me to write? I think I have started to manage my time better now so can start another story. It can happen during GOT era if you want that also including Jon/Dany if needed. The chances are that if you can think of an idea, I have already written something about it already and I might get back to it. If I haven't written about that idea before then I am definitely writing it.


	8. Winterfell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaegar arrives North.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update, I will try to update it pretty quickly now that I have a plan where the story is going to progress. I got a little carried away on the previous chapters so I might try to edit them just slightly.

Lyanna

 

 

The white winds howled at the flat peak of the same mountain where Rhaegar had met Meraxes just a year ago. She wanted to meet him more frequently, but it was not to be, for he hardly had days when the new spymaster wasn’t looking for him.

 

A large shadow took over the snowy peak and she looked up and smiled in awe. Bronze accents pierced the otherwise shimmering green scales, truly a beauty Vhagar was. It was a fair bit bulkier than Meraxes had been but then, dragons grow until they die. She had never been fearful of Meraxes, but now she very well understood why Rhaegar wanted to kill the dragon a year ago. The beast above her could burn every castle in Westeros and the people, they could only just watch.

 

The ground shook when Vhagar’s feet pierced the three feet sheet of white snow, which turned into a puddle instantly and she swore she saw steam rise from under the claws. The figure at the top was the reason for her leaving the warmth of Winterfell, for the brutality outside at the onset of winter. Rhaegar Targaryen looked better than he had ever looked before. The boy was dead now, and the man was born, so she thought before she looked closer.

 

He had a smile on his face, a smile of a boy wishing to show his new plaything. Yet there was something in the way he sat on the dragon. He was always confident and headstrong; he was a prince after all. Yet his responsibilities slumped him down. There were signs, the way his forehead stressed and the way his eyes remained tired. None of that was visible now, he looked proud on top of the beast, having the power to bring death to all those who irked him.

 

“Hop on then,” her dragon prince said with charm that she couldn’t have expected from him right now, a sharp contrast to just moments ago when he looked the Conqueror reborn.

 

She didn’t ask again to confirm. There was no way that she was going to give away this opportunity. Riding a dragon was a dream all her life, now it might just come true.

 

“Careful” Rhaegar warned as her hands tugged on the scales. He shifted himself a few inches back making just enough space for her at the head of the saddle. He passed her, his warm hands, hands which lifted her to the top without a strain. It was astounding how much he had changed in the past year and she hoped all was for the better.

 

She was going to say something snarky, trying to belittle the dragon but Rhaegar didn’t give her a chance. She landed backwards on the saddle with her facing her silver prince. He didn’t ask for permission as he pressed his lips on hers his hands holding her head tight.

 

“Gods, you taste heavenly,” he said pulling her back into another kiss and she let him do it like a weak little lady hungering for her prince.

 

“And you seem… different,” she said after parting.

 

“Spending time with the dragons corrupts me,” Rhaegar said. “Soon, you will know what I mean.”

 

“I like this corrupted look,” she replied before looking at the dragon scales again.

 

He laughed, showing his perfect smile and the lips that made her pull, him into a kiss now. It was too addicting, sitting on a warm body kissing someone she loved and letting her troubles just fade away.

 

“How long do we have?” He asked her before turning her on the saddle the right way forwards.

 

“I told my father that we will reach Winterfell by sundown,” she replied. “But we can always extend that a little.”

 

“ _Sōvēs,”_ he whispered lovingly in her ear. “Say the word and let the world be yours.”

 

_She repeated the word exactly as Rhaegar had said it but with a slight hint of fear. It didn’t matter what it meant, Rhaegar would never harm her, she reassured herself._

 

Her back crashed into Rhaegar’s chest with a jerk as Vhagar straightened his legs and ran towards the edge of the cliff. Right when she though the dragon would stretch his wings, nothing happened. She felt weightless, almost as if the dragon was escaping her. Rhaegar gave her his hand and she held onto it like she would to her life. She was sure that she had given the wrong command, said the wrong thing. “Rhaegar, do something!” she screamed at the top of her lungs to just laughter from her silver prince.

  
Right when she thought she was having a meet with the Stranger, the wings opened, and with an uncomfortable snap the dragon halted down to a hover over the land.

 

“Isn’t that exhilarating?” Rhaegar asked.

 

“I almost died,” she let out and made a face, a face that she hoped Rhaegar could make it out from the way her cheeks narrowed.

 

“He is playing with you,” Rhaegar replied.

 

“Playing‽,” she protested. “Would it still have been the same had I died of shock?”

 

“Say, Dracarys,” he whispered to take her attention away. He didn’t like when she talked of death.

 

“What does it do?” She asked afraid to give another command.

 

“Try it,” he said in a voice that made her comply immediately even though she didn’t want to. The things that this man did to her.

 

“Dracarys,” she yelled at the top of her lungs, her words echoing back to her a dozen times.

 

The gap between her legs grew as Vhagar took in a mountain of air, before painting the most spectacular sight she had ever witnessed; a beautiful flame that melted all the snow where it went and yards out where it didn’t. The head of the dragon shielded her from the heat of the fire, but she felt her feet get uncomfortably warm under the shoes.

 

She laughed like a madwoman, it was the most remarkable thing she had ever done in her life and that included the time she had found and taken home Cregan. She loved the direwolf, but a wolf could never compare to a dragon. There was a reason that the mightiest army in the history of the North had bent the knee to Rhaegar’s ancestors without even a fight.

 

“Do you feel it?” he asked in between his attempts to kiss her neck.

 

“Feel what?”

 

“Power,” Rhaegar said. “Every person is your subject. You rule over them all, you are their god. The person who decides their fate. The Queen of the Skies.”

 

She couldn’t deny, she did feel that kind of power. It was impossible to not feel it. She had never thought that she would be in control of anything other than a handful of servants of whichever household she was sold to. Rhaegar had given her far more than that.

 

“I do, but we mustn’t think that way,” she said. “That is how mad kings were born. No one is invulnerable, Rhaegar, I pray that you do not find that out the hard way.”

 

“Of course, not,” Rhaegar said instantly. “But this is as close to it as we can come.”

 

“Dracarys,” she said again preferring to say the command, then to think about whatever thoughts were going through her head. Rhaegar was surprised but she wondered why stop there.

 

“Dracarys,” she said again and then again. She could never tire of it but maybe Vhagar might. “Would he get mad at me?” She asked.

 

“No, he can breathe fire all the time if he wants to,” Rhaegar said. “It comes to him like talking comes to us. It is a bit cumbersome but not at all tiring. At least that is what I believe.”

 

“Dracarys,” she said again and Vhagar responded with a bright flame. She giggled like a girl of five as Rhaegar’s arms wrapped around her and his cheeks nuzzled against hers.

 

“Dracarys,” Rhaegar said this time laughing with her. The dragon didn’t respond leading her to an even greater laugh while Rhaegar mockingly kicked the dragon.

 

“Where can we go?” She asked in anticipation.

 

“If we must reach Winterfell by sundown, we have got around an hour to go. We can roam across the Wolfswood for today,” Rhaegar replied as he ushered some commands to the dragon, and they started rising higher and higher.

 

The Valyrians didn’t only consider themselves gods, they were gods, Lyanna thought. Distances that took her hours to cross, took minutes. “How much time does it take to travel here?” She asked that was all she could do for now, ask.

 

“If I fly high up to the fast streams, less than a day of straight riding. That is how long it takes the dragons to relay our messages. When I am on top, Vhagar has to be a little more careful. So, I would say a little more than a day if I sleep while flying. It took me two days, however as I preferred solid ground to sleeping a mile high in the air.”

 

It took fifteen days from White Harbour to King’s Landing by water and that was the fastest method. Winterfell to White Harbour was a week of riding at the fastest. The dragon covered what took twenty something days in twenty hours. It was extraordinary, faster than a raven, and mightier than an army.

 

Rhaegar checked her harness again to her intrigue. “What are we doing?” She asked.

 

“Something exciting,” he responded as Vhagar called one wing to himself.

 

In moments she was upside down, in the air and in a few more she was back upright.

 

“What if I fall?” She asked terrified.

 

“You won’t, I have performed this maneuver many times when I train the dragons.”

 

“Train?” She asked, she never knew about him training the dragons.

 

“Yes, Queen Rhaenys was brought down by scorpions made by the Dornish. I had some made too, wielded by the most loyal of my men. The same men who came with the scorpions to Winterfell a year ago. I train with them frequently, obviously with blunted bolts.”

 

“Well, you can just attack at night,” she said awaiting a laugh from Rhaegar.

 

“That would be less than honorable,” he said seriously. “I would prefer to ride Vhagar in a battlefield than to burn innocents in castles.”  

 

They circled in the air for a fair amount of time looking at the life below in the Crofters Village. There wasn’t much happening, due to the snow most of the people resided inside their houses.

 

“Let us return back now,” Rhaegar said after some while. “Some day we will go around the world. The Summer Isles and the red desert of Lhazar are a sight to see from up high and so are the ruins of Valyria.”

 

“You have seen them?” She asked.

 

“It was one of the first things I did when Vhagar was strong enough. We shall go as far as Asshai this time.”

 

Soon they were back on top of the mountain. “Does this mountain have a name?” He asked.

 

“No, at least not that I am aware of.”  

 

“Dragon’s Peak,” Rhaegar replied.

 

“As you say, your grace,” she said with a bow after dismounting Vhagar.

 

She had only brought her horse, Snow on which she sat at the back and let Rhaegar maneuver the horse through the snow. It was a challenge for him, which meant it took them longer than planned but now Rhaegar knew how to ride a horse in Northern winter.

 

As they came closer to Wintertown the roads became clear. The sun was already down by the time they reached the village, so they rode straight to the castle. None of the guards asked a question as she had Rhaegar wear the uniform of a common guard. Her father knew about the relationship, and she would prefer that it was contained only to him and Brandon.

 

“Your father, is he here?” Rhaegar asked.

 

“Yes, but he has promised me that he will not bother us.” She replied. There wasn’t a reason for it, just that she didn’t want anyone to come in between her and Rhaegar.

 

Rhaegar waved to Rodrick before moving into her father’s solar. Rickard Stark would have come out for the Crown Prince, but this was supposed to be a secret affair. Her father was standing in his solar, besides Brandon wearing their best clothes. Brandon was in sheer disbelief he hadn’t believed her one bit earlier when she had told him about her lover, so she smirked at him in victory.

 

“Rhae, this is my father Rickard, and my brother Brandon,” she said while taking Rhaegar’s arm. She wanted to make the night feel more like a family gathering rather than a lord meeting his Prince. “Father, Bran, this is Rhaegar.”

 

Rhaegar shook both her father’s and Brandon’s hands before they sat on the couches. A servant came soon after and poured them all wine which should ease the tension that took over the room.

 

“How is Benjen?” Brandon asked the question that she had been wanting to ask since long.

 

“Arthur writes that he is well, but the campaign has taken a toll on all of them. It does seem that there finally might be a resolution as the people are finally on the right side. However, you know what bandits are like, it is their pride that would lead them to getting caught or they might go back into the woods and the hunt would carry on. Your son has been a great help to Arthur, however. The last I heard he has started to polish Dawn, a task that Arthur hadn’t even let Richard perform. Unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on what you like, he still wants to be a Kingsguard, now even more so.”

 

That instantly reminded her of one of Rhaegar’s problems. She nudged him and he seemed to understand her intentions. “Lord Rickard, I do not know much of the North, however I was thinking of appointing a Northern Kingsguard as Benjen would be too young when I marry Lya. Do you happen to have anyone in mind?”

 

“Rickard Umber,” her father said. “Greatjon’s brother, he is regarded as being a good fighter.”

 

Rhaegar seemed to agree but she stealthily maneuvered her hand behind his back and pressed her finger on his spine. She didn’t want Rickard Umber anywhere near herself.

 

“Any others, someone who may add a flair to the guard,” Rhaegar asked.

 

“Jorah,” Brandon said. “Jorah Mormont, his wife died a few months back. He has a Valyrian Steel sword that the bards love to sing about.”

 

“He is the heir,” her father said immediately giving Brandon a glare.

 

“I am sure that Maege is up to task,” she said. “The Mormonts are proud people, they will accept an offer of the Kingsguard even though it means sacrificing an heir.”

 

Rhaegar must have realized her intentions as he began to speak. “Lord Stark, write to Lord Jorah, tell him to come at the earliest with his sword. I will induct him here, myself; the vows can happen later.”

 

“The Kingsguard is the King or the Hand’s domain,” her father replied.

 

“Aerys would die soon enough, it will be me who Jorah would be guarding. I can handle the King’s wrath for naming a Kingsguard. He would like it even, me having the gall to induct an heir of a family into the order.”  

 

“It will be done, your grace,” her father said. “If you are sure.”

 

Rhaegar nodded and he pulled her to himself with his arm across her shoulders. Rhaegar was a schemer through and through, he was planning something now, she was sure.  

 

“Father, you wanted to talk about the Watch,” she said in an attempt to switch to more distant topics and not the ones that might see her family at a disadvantage.  

 

Her father gave her a quick glare for bringing that topic up, but the words were said.

 

“My Prince, we haven’t received the aid from the Crown for the Night’s Watch since years. The state deteriorates each passing day,” her father said worried.

 

“You are not going to get anything while Tywin is the Hand,” Rhaegar replied. “He considers it a waste of coin, when I become the King, I will send aid immediately. The treasury is full, I am sure that we can man the Watch and the Gift. Your letters made me believe that the wildling attacks have increased?” Rhaegar asked.

 

“Yes, by a significant amount” her father replied. “Some of the tribes are gathering and it won’t be long before we have a new King beyond the Wall. I shall tell you the details later. For now, let us leave the matters of state out and discuss other issues. The marriage for one.”

 

That was a topic that she had a great interest in, but she hated being talked about.

 

“In six months,” Rhaegar said. “There is a great Tourney in Harrenhall whose invitations you should be getting at any time. It is a ruse, for my wedding which is to take place the day before the last joust.”

 

“The King,” her father began to say.

 

“Will not attend,” Rhaegar interrupted changing the flow immediately after. “Ashara has also told me that she wants to go forward with her wedding to Lord Eddard, so we will host the betrothal at Harrenhall too. There will also be many ladies in attendance that Lord Brandon can choose for I doubt Catelyn would marry him considering that Tywin is pushing his own son to Hoster.”

 

The silence in the room just became a lot more palpable.

 

“I thought it was Lysa that Tywin was after,” Her father said.

 

“Why settle for the second daughter when Tywin can have the first?” Rhaegar replied. “Cersei gives him the Stormlands, Jaime, the Riverlands. He can bribe a few Reach lords to force the Tyrells to stay neutral. It will be the North, the Crownlands and maybe the Vale against him. Dorne might stay neutral too by the look of things.”

 

“We are at a disadvantage,” Brandon stated. Her family didn’t know about the dragons and even still they were at a disadvantage. Rhaegar was not going to burn down castles like Aegon, she was sure. That wasn’t her Rhaegar.

 

“We are,” Rhaegar said. “But I am sure that we will figure a way out of this mess. House Targaryen hasn’t ruled over Westeros for three hundred years for no reason. We have our ways.”

 

* * *

 

A month later

 

Rhaegar

 

The Crown Prince of Westeros was reduced to the position of a simple bodyguard. This was love, he assumed, as he saw Lyanna stretch her dragonbone bow aiming at a deer, ready to let it loose.

 

He waited and waited before she ultimately turned the bow down and released the arrow into the ground, making the doe flee.

 

“She was with a child,” Lyanna defended her action.

 

“And how could you tell?” he asked back.

 

“I can feel it,” she replied. “Like I know that there is a direwolf behind us.”

 

Not a single breath left him as Lyanna turned and moved beside him and towards the wolf. “It is alright,” she said, and he turned immediately with his sword drawn. To his surprise, Lyanna was petting the wolf like a dog and the wolf snuggled against her hand. “She is a friend to Cregan,” Lyanna said as the great direwolf entered through the woods and into the small clearing. He stood in awe as he saw the direwolves retreat into the woods, giddy as if they were simple dogs.

 

“She knows me,” Lyanna said. “Most of the animals here, especially the wolves and the direwolves.”

 

His mood instantly soured. He was taking this northern flower and trying to sow it again in the snake pit that was King’s Landing. She wasn’t made for the city, his pup was made for these lands, for the woods and the wolves.

 

“We will come here once every month when I become the King,” he said. “So, you can meet them all.”

 

“We will have duties,” Lyanna replied.

 

He placed his hands on her hips before kissing her deeply. “My duty is only to you. Connington can handle the Realm or even my mother for that matter. There were King’s who did nothing but whore and drink, I am sure a week’s trip North won’t do the Realm much harm.”

 

“Would you?” she asked him sincerely. “Whore and drink when you become the King?”

 

He smiled. “A little bit, but like most things, we shall do it together.”

 

He wanted to capture the disgust on Lya’s face for eternity. “You make a face like this now, but I know you better than that. There is a wolf inside of you, like a dragon in me, and they both hunger for adventure and power. If you give it a chance, playing the game would be quite enjoyable.”

 

Quick as lightning his pup drew an arrow from her quiver and let it fly towards a deer right behind her, without steadying once for her shot. He stood astonished while Lyanna ran over to secure the kill.

 

“I have seen better, and they didn’t have a bow that costs as much as a castle.” he downplayed her shot knowing that apart from some extremely skilled hunters not many were able to do the feat.

 

She didn’t say a single word as she cut some meat before Cregan and his friend returned and feasted on the leftovers. It wasn’t their hunt, but the meat was still warm, and both the wolves were suitably bloodied by the time Lyanna had a fire started and he started singing.

 

“Deep in the white woods,

Underneath an ancient tree.

I see my wolf hunt,

With not a care for me.

Her smile is dear,

Her eyes are grey,

As she enters the fray,” he sang.

 

“Sing something better,” his wolf said. “Something more poetic.”

 

He shook his head before starting to sing one of his favourite tunes.

 

“High in the halls,

Of the King’s who are gone.” he continued singing as the sun set and the firelight crackled against the snow that fell from the heavens, making him reconsider the decision to camp in the woods.

 

As he ate the simple dish, the wolf left, leaving them only with a lazy Cregan who was enjoying the fire. The stack of firewood emptied soon, and the fire dimmed. Lyanna and her wolf were fine without it, but he wasn’t, so he called Vhagar and the dragon’s wing stopped all the snow leaving them warm and close. This was his pack, there were a few members missing but this was the start.

 

As Lyanna snuggled into him, he swore to destroy all his enemies before they could destroy his family. He wasn’t going to wait till the moment was dire for the skies to fall. His sweet wife and mother deserved the world, not months of stress awaiting word from battles while the war raged on. He was Rhaegar Targaryen, the first of his name, the blood of dragons, and his enemies would perish with fire and blood.


	9. Preperations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People prepare to leave for the greatest tourney of their generation.

Rhaegar

 

Dozens of dragons, all larger than Vhagar stood vigil atop the walls of Dragonstone. The renovations of the castle had taken only two years, but the work and coin that Rhaegar Targaryen had put in was enough to rebuild an entire Kingdom. Every one of those statues was removed while the walls were raised and then placed on top again. Yet, it was just the tip of the work that being performed.

 

The insides of the caste were completely redone with a newer style. Dragonstone had remained much like the trading outpost it once was. Rhaegar wanted it to be a home, so every needless wall in the castle was torn down and a new structure was made. Ships upon ships of Ironwood were brought up from the North and then blended in with the valyrian stone to make a castle worth living in.

 

Dragonstone no longer looked dreary, even in the stormiest of conditions but to any outsiders it posed more of a threat than ever before. In between statues and at the Sea Dragon’s Tower stood a host of scorpions which held bolts taller than Rhaegar himself. The tip of the bolts was to be coated with wildfire in the event of an invasion and if aimed at a ship’s own reserves of pitch, a bolt could set the sea on fire.

 

“The Fleet will leave by the ‘morrow,” said Jorah not happy with the decision.

 

“Driftmark needs it more than us,” Rhaegar replied his head proudly raised as he saw the preparations from on top of the wall. The last of the workers were to leave tomorrow and then he would be left with only a few hundred residents of his island, people he loved dearly.

 

“Harren the Black built a great castle too,” Jorah said. “The fleet will help no matter how tough the walls are.”

 

He chuckled. “Aegon had dragons, Jorah. Our enemies do not.”

 

“They say that the Ironborn have krakens,” Jorah reiterated adamant about the presence of the fleet.

 

“They might as well do,” he replied confident. “A kraken didn’t rule the world, Jorah, dragons did. If the Ironborn attack my home, the Drowned God himself will beg me for mercy after I have razed the Iron islands to the ground.”  

 

The clicking of shoes broke the conversation he had going with his Kingsguard. Rhaegar didn’t need to turn in order to know who had the hasty footsteps in Dragonstone. In such a laid-back island, only a Stark could find themselves wary.

 

“My Prince,” Benjen Stark said to him with a bow. The boy had grown much during his time with Arthur even though he was still ten and two. He had taken an important, and in Rhaegar’s mind a selfless decision. Benjen was going to stay in Winterfell to let Rickard Stark head to Harrenhall, for there must always be a Stark in Winterfell.

 

“I asked you to call me Rhaegar, Benjen,” he said turning. “My friends call me by that name.”

 

“Then Rhaegar, I ask you to give me your blessing,” said Benjen taking a step towards him.  

 

He pulled the boy into a hug, it wasn’t deep, but it served its purpose. “If you ever find yourself in a fit, ruling the North, close your eyes and use your heart to make the decision. For you are just a child and a child’s mind, it is not the best resource.”

 

“You call me stupid,” Benjen said in a tone reminiscent of Lyanna mocking him.

 

“No, Lord Benjen,” he continued with a laugh. “I used more subtle words than that.”

 

He placed his hands among Benjen’s hair before kneeling in front of the boy. “Enjoy yourself in the North. When you come back, Arthur will start training you and your life will move faster than you ever thought.”

 

Benjen nodded before pulling him into another hug and soon trotting towards his ship that would take him to White Harbour.

 

“He is a good boy,” Jorah said to Rhaegar once Benjen was gone.

 

“He is, Jorah,” replied Rhaegar watching Benjen’s ship sail into the distance. “But he needs to be a man.”

 

The workers took two more days to wrap everything up before leaving with the rest of the fleet towards Driftmark and then to other places in the Crownlands. Rhaegar opened the gates of the castle for the smallfolk after that. The children played in the Aegon’s gardens while their parents worked jobs around the island. Life was slow at Dragonstone, until Jon Connington arrived with his host of problems.

 

“Are you sure it was Richard?” he asked leaning on the painted table, not believing what Connington had told him.

 

Connington nodded. “He warned you Rhaegar.”

 

“He didn’t warn me,” Rhaegar exclaimed. “He tried to extort coin out of me for keeping his mouth shut.”

 

“And now Aerys knows about the wedding,” Connington stated. “And I think he might even offer Richard the position of the Master of Coin.”

 

“Over my dead body,” he replied boldly. “What did Richard say exactly?” he asked, maybe not much damage was done.

 

“That you plan on marrying a lady at Harrenhall,” Connington said and Rhaegar slumped down on his chair.

 

“I raised him like my own brother,” he said. “And this is what I get for that! What have I done to deserve all this?” he asked. “The way we are heading it looks to me that Lyanna would murder me in my sleep. Betrayal after betrayal.”

 

“Myles is loyal,” Connington said with confidence. “And we can delay the marriage if you wish.”

 

He shook his head. “The marriage will happen; I will free my dragons on Harrenhall if anyone stops it. And Richard, he will pay for what he has done. He wanted coin; I will make him beg on the streets of King’s Landing. This I vow.”

 

“There is something else,” Jon said. “Arthur’s group in the Kingswood came across some Lannister armour that the brotherhood had looted. A captured man told him that the men were Tygett’s. I investigated and took a number on the Stormlands ships. Robert keeps them at various places at once to prevent an accurate count but there are some missing. I believe that Tygett is hiring forces from Tyrosh and Myr.”

 

“They are slave soldiers,” he replied. “If Tywin uses them, then even his supporters might turn on him.”

 

“He will spin off a story,” Connington said. “If he sides with Tyrosh, I can go to rally Lys in our favour.”

 

Rhaegar thought a few moments about it. “You would miss my wedding. I wanted you there.”

 

“I will see you two many times later on,” Connington replied. “But I must make sure that we are safe.”

 

“Go on then,” said Rhaegar leaning back in his chair. “Although it sounds absurd to me, Tywin couldn’t be that stupid to enlist slaves?”

 

As he said the words, he couldn’t help but wonder if it was stupidity or if there was something that they were missing. Nonetheless, war was for later, first he had a wedding to plan.

 

* * *

 

Rhaella

 

Aerys hardly called her to the Throne Room and thus she was more than surprised when Ser Barristan arrived with the invitation. When she stood in front of Aerys, she had even less of a clue. The entire room was empty save Aerys and his Kingsguards, and yet it felt so tense.

 

“Your son plans to marry a girl at Harrenhall,” Aerys announced.

 

She was surprised, to say the least. She had known that Rhaegar was seeing a woman, but she didn’t think he would go as far as to marry her.

 

“He never tells me these things. He is planning to usurp me, I am sure,” Aerys stated before she could.

 

“He is not!” she said curling her fists near her waist. “He just had Dragonstone renovated, he plans to spend his life there. Your advisors are poisoning you,” she spewed in anger.

 

Aerys being the man he was returned to his thoughts, her words having no positive effect on him. His face portrayed a thousand emotions before it turned into a snarl.

 

“You side with him,” Aerys shouted loud enough for Myr to hear. “You want to get rid of me!”

 

It was pathetic, the shell of a man her husband had become. They had both changed after the deaths of their children, she had become meek while he had become mad. Now she didn’t know which one was better.

 

“I am not a kinslayer,” she stated firmly. “You are my brother. Mother would never forgiv-.”

 

“Mother is dead!” Aerys shouted again, and she cursed herself for bringing their mother up. “And you plan to send me to her.”

 

“Ser Gerold have Rossart bring wildfire,” Aerys commanded. “My wife cannot give me a daughter, but she might give me a dragon,” Aerys said and his trusty Kingsguard relayed the orders further.

 

Arthur’s hand on the pommel of his sword only eased after she pressed his other wrist. She had been through this before, Aerys would set up everything but he never went through with it.

 

Rossart arrived quickly in the room as if he was expecting the moment. The pyromancer looked less like a lord and more like a mad man, much like Aerys but dressed in far shabby clothing. In Rossart’s hands was a pot of green liquid that she had come to hate as of late.  

 

Some guards worked to set up the pillar on which she would be restrained. Ser Jonothor Darry tied her to the contraption while Rossart placed the pot under her feet, all that was needed was Aerys’s word and she would die a horrifying death.

 

The first time he had done it, she had screamed. The second time she had cried, now she felt nothing, and she saw how much it bothered Aerys.

 

“Beg for your life!” Aerys shouted.

 

She shook her head. “A dragon is not a slave. I will not beg, I am a daughter of Valyria and the Queen of Westeros, I will die as one.”

 

The sudden straightening of backs among the Kingsguards told her that she had said the wrong thing, but enough was enough. Aerys had been doing this since ages and today it had to end. If she died, she died, she had done so much for her children but if she didn’t take a stand, she wouldn’t have any left by the end of the year.

 

Aerys was disappointed for a second before he relayed some orders to Gerold, and the madness shimmered in his eyes. His beard barely held the random smiles that took over his brain every once in a while, as he gazed over his helpless wife.

 

“Free the Queen,” Aerys said uttering the last word with a deeply hidden mockery.  

 

Dread overcome her as Jonothor Darry started to remove her from the contraption. Aerys had never done this before and seeing the look in his eyes, he was going to something even worse.

 

The door opened and she let out a cry as her child walked into the room holding Ser Gerold’s hand, as innocent as ever. Without a word, Ser Gerold escorted Viserys to the contraption and the poor boy knew nothing until his hands were already restrained and the Kingsguard shifted to the feet.

 

“Mama!” Viserys shouted at the top of his lungs towards her. She rushed towards him only to have her route blocked by Ser Gerold of Hightower.

 

“Let me pass, Gerold,” she cried fighting against the Lord Commander’s grip. “He is my son!”

 

Gerold said nothing, he himself was ashamed of his actions but he would never betray his friend and the man he was sworn to.

 

Her legs shook when Viserys’ cries became louder than Aerys’ laughs. He was going to do it, she knew, Aerys was going to burn his own son.

 

“Aerys, don’t!” She pleaded before dropping to her knees. “Burn me but not him, please, Aerys.”

 

Aerys smirked at her. “You are no true dragon. Look Viserys, look how your mother begs. A dragon does not beg. She is no true dragon.”

 

No words reached Viserys for his cries were still louder than Aerys’s words.  

 

“Aerys, please,” she pleaded again on both knees. “My King, please, I beg you.”

 

“Who is the dragon now?” Aerys asked.

   
“You are,” she said with all she had. “You are, my King.”

 

Aerys smiled and she swore she saw his face light up with pride. “And what are you?”

 

“Your subject,” she replied submissively lowering her neck.

 

“Do you see Viserys?” Aerys asked. “Do you see how we are meant to rule the world, and not mummers like your mother and that son of hers?”

 

Viserys listened now and nodded with eyes on fire much like Aerys. No, she cried inside, not her son, not her Visy.  

 

Aerys gave a single nod before Ser Jonothor lifted Viserys out of the contraption and onto the ground. Her child didn’t move an inch as Aerys got down from the Throne and headed out of the rooms followed by his two loyal dogs.

 

She opened her arms hoping that Viserys would take her in. Viserys looked at her with his eyes determined and teary from before. He took a step towards her before he lowered his head and stormed out of the throne room.

 

She stayed on the ground and sobbed uncontrollably for hours before Arthur knelt in front of her and took her into an embrace.

 

“He will pay for what he did to you,” Arthur said in her ear.

 

She hugged Arthur back as if he was Rhaegar himself. “Don’t tell him of today,” she said. “It will break him.”

 

“My Queen,” Arthur said. “Sometimes things need to be broken before they are remade; with fire and blood.”

 

* * *

 

Rickard

 

“I will marry whomever you wish me to marry,” Brandon said his head lowered and gazing at the table that separated them in his solar.

 

“What have you done now?” he asked disappointed. “All three of your siblings bring me joy and you, nothing but a problem after another.”

 

“Barbrey,” Brandon said shaking, on the verge of tears. “It was all a farce; she wanted the title of the Lady of Winterfell… She loved someone else.”

 

His suspicions were confirmed. Barbrey’s father, Rodrick Ryswell was a good friend of his, but his wife was a cunning woman. Their eldest daughter was married to a Bolton and she wanted to marry her second daughter to a Stark, possibly to have their children marry and rule over the entire North. His poor son, innocent in the ways of the Realm had walked straight into the trap.

 

Curiosity got the best of him. “And how did you come to know of the fact?”

 

“Lyanna,” Brandon replied. “She saw Barbrey… in the act with another person.”

 

It was impossible to have a conversation without hearing about his daughter. She had her many antics before and now with her warging, it caused him more problems than before especially now that Walys suspected that something was afoot.  

 

“Lyanna!” he shouted and in the evening silence, his daughter no doubt heard him.

 

The doors opened to reveal his daughter, dressed in her fresh riding clothes and his anger immediately went away. Lyanna reminded him so much of his own wife that it was all he could think of sometimes.

 

“Father,” Lyanna said with a bow.

 

“Lya, I told you not to bother with people’s private affairs,” he said.

 

“Father, it wasn’t intentional,” Lyanna protested. “Brandon asked me to see what Barbrey was doing and who would have thought that she would be fucking a stranger in a broken tower.”

 

“Anyways,” he said deciding to change the topic before it got too embarrassing. “Fine me Aemon’s host.”

 

Lyanna nodded before Brandon pulled out a chair for her to sit upon and then helped her gradually lean her neck. It sent shivers down his spine every time when Lyanna’s eyes turned white but there was a part of him that wanted to learn the magic in her blood too.

 

“Has Winterwind bred yet?” Brandon asked him once Lyanna was gone.

 

“How am I supposed to know, Bran?” he said sitting on his chair almost frustrated at Brandon’s reminder. “She doesn’t come to me like Cregan does to Lyanna, but I do see her in my dreams somedays. You couldn’t take care of the direwolf, and now you await its pups.”

 

“I have seen the error in my ways,” Brandon stated. What was he to say to his son now? Every time Bran agreed that he had made a mistake and the proceeded to repeat it again. “I will do better with the new pup.”

 

He let out a laugh. “They say one does not really know responsibility until they are handed one. You have been given one again and again, your wife will have to be much a woman to tame you, and what tames a wolf?”

 

“A star for one,” Brandon replied. “Have you read some of Ned’s new letters. Half of his letters are about his lady love and the other half is about horses. Too bad he will fall in the Tourney, much before I do.”

 

He shook his head. “Don’t underestimate a man who has a reason to win something. I jousted too, long ago in a grand Tourney to crown a woman my Queen. Hells, I even beat Gerold Hightower and a dozen other remarkable jousters. Yet in the final, I lost to a man whose only achievement in his life was to win that Tourney. He came from a house that no one cared about, and yet I watched him give the Crown of Love and Beauty to the woman I wanted to crown. Half the crowd laughed and the other cried knowing that the match was never to be.”

 

The story reminded him of the good times, before he witnessed the war of the Ninepenny Kings. A knight in shining armour made for a good tale, but in the war most of his men wielded nothing more than a pitchfork. The Lannister soldiers even under the weak rule of Tytos Lannister fielded full armour with their weakest swords better than most his hosts. That was the thing that set him on the course to accumulate power and wealth. What good was honour if you couldn’t afford a metal plate to save your men when the war came?  

 

“Who was the man?” Brandon asked returning Rickard to the present.

 

“Bonifer of House Hasty.”

 

Brandon gave out a bout of laughter. “You speak true; I have no clue who he is. Who was the woman that took your heart?”

 

“What kind of people make even the toughest of us Starks melt?” he asked back, looking towards Lyanna.

 

“A Dayne,” Brandon replied after a while having thought about it multiple times.

 

“She was a sight too at that Tourney, but I do not talk about her,” he said remembering Lady Ashara’s aunt.

 

“A Targaryen?” Bran tested to his nod.

 

“None other than our Queen,” he said with a smile. “In the end none of us were ever an option, a witch’s words carried more worth than a crown of roses. Still, I found love in your mother, and Rhaella went on to become the Queen.”

 

Brandon looked at the floor for a minute before shifting his head up. “Whom must I marry?”

 

“I won’t tell that to you,” he said knowing that if he did, his son would make it a pact to not marry that woman. “But think about it, the Daynes are a small house and yet I am extremely happy than Ned is to be married to one. I have never met the woman, yet I know how she will act, some houses come with a promise of coin, and some with the promise of a name. Whomever you marry, make sure that when your descendants read the text below your statue, they feel proud to have your wife’s blood in their veins.”  

 

“I wonder what they will write under my statue,” Brandon asked disappointed. “Or whether I will get a statue at all.”

 

He sighed before walking up to his son and placing his hands on Brandon’s shoulders. “You will be a good lord,” he said rubbing Bran’s shoulders. “But you need to remember who you are. You are not a man who fucks whores or fights over women. You are the heir to House Stark, our name, it carries weight. It carries a promise that we maintain honour and justice in the harsh North, that we inherit our castle from the greatest of Kings and that we stand tall when we warn our enemies that winter is coming. Never forget who you are, for the Realm will not.”

 

Brandon rose immediately and pulled him into a deep hug. Both of them were teary eyed but neither parted as they hugged each other for what seemed like hours. The pack was coming together and soon no one would dare lift a finger at House Stark, Rickard hoped.

 

 

Lyanna’s voice brought them both to the problems of today. “They will be here in an hour. But there is someone else who wil-,” Lyanna was interrupted by the slamming of doors.

 

It took him a moment to recognise the boy who had just entered, but when he did he couldn’t help but give out a genuine smile. Benjen Stark was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you thought in the comments!
> 
> I thought multiple times over having this chapter instead of just moving straight to Harrenhall. It is a weak chapter but maybe it gives you a better idea about the characters. 
> 
> I tend to not go against canon wherever I am able to, but sometimes it is necessary. So, I apologize for any character butchering that I did. 
> 
> For any wondering, Lyanna is like Bran but she cannot see the past or the future, only the present. So basically a very strong warg, what I believed Bloodraven(a thousand eyes and one) to be before he became the 3ER.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published fanfic so please go easy on in the comments.  
> I welcome criticism but abuse will just lead to me not reading the comments.  
> The plan is for it to be around 100k words, and I can almost guarantee an update every week but more likely two per week. 
> 
> This features heavily on magic and Rhaegar and Lyanna will definitely be overpowered but I will try to combat it the best I can. 
> 
> Over this summer I wrote many fanfics but never published them as I got carried away a lot with the magic part and in the end, ended up making characters as strong as gods. I hope to avoid that this time. 
> 
> Also please let me know if you prefer more plot, descriptions or something else in the writing.  
> Thanks!


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